



Class. 
Book 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



y 



THE YOUTH 



OF 



THE OLD DOMINION. 



BY 



SAMUEL HOPKINS. 




BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY JOHN P. JEWETT & CO. 

CLEVELAND, OHIO : 
JEWETT, PROCTOR, AND WORTHLNGTON. 

NEW YORK: 
SHELDON, BL AXEMAN, & CO. 

1856. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by 

JOHN P. JEWETT & CO., 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY METCAI.F AND COMPANY. 



Many narratives of our early history which are par- 
ticularly designed for novices are read as tasks, laid 
aside with a sense of weariness, and their statistical 
details soon forgotten. 

I venture an experiment, endeavoring to give to the 
Past the- aspect and hue of Life, to excite a personal 
interest in events which would secure little or none 
as unclothed facts. For this purpose, something of 
fancy has been necessarily admitted, but all idea of 
fiction is seriously disclaimed. Any one familiar 
with the annals of youthful Virginia will here recog- 
nize, it is believed, a scrupulous regard to historic 
truth. 

A volume designed for popular reading need not 
be encumbered with references. They might have 
been given profusely, but will be found only where 
some statement in the text has seemed particularly to 
require them. 

The authorities upon which I have relied, and to 



IV ADVERTISEMENT. 

which I have carefully adhered, are Hillard, Simms, 
Smith, Stith, Beverly, Burk, Keith, Campbell, Force's 
collection of historical papers, and two or three tracts, 
old and rare, which are noted in the course of the 
volume. For the generous loan of these, I am in- 
debted to the Libraries of Harvard, Yale, and Am- 
herst Colleges, and to that of the Boston Athenaeum. 
More modern writers have also been consulted ; and 
I have only to regret that others have not been at my 
command. 

These statements are due to the form in which the 
following narrative is cast ; a form which I may ap- 
ply to the early history of our other Colonies, should 
circumstances permit. 

S. H. 

April, 1856. 



(p 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGB 
THE BATTLE-FIELD 1 



CHAPTER II. 
THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN 8 

CHAPTER III. 

THE YOUNG ADVENTURER 19 

CHAPTER IV. 

SELF-EMANCIPATION 40 

CHAPTER V. 

THE PIONEERS 49 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE BRUISED REED. — THE EXECUTION .... 64 



VI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEE VII. 

POCAHONTAS 77 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE ROYAL SHARPER. — THE CONFLAGRATION. — GOLD 92 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS 108 

CHAPTER X. 

THE CORONATION. — GENTLEMEN AT WORK . . . 123 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. — SINGLE COMBATS. — PEACE. — 

ANARCHY 142 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE LAST CAROUSE. — STARVATION. — RESCUE . .177 

CHAPTER XIII. 

MARRYLNG A PEACE 198 



CHAPTER XIV. 

ANNALS. — THE ASSEMBLY. — WIVES. — SERVANTS. — 

PROSELYTING 217 



CHAPTER XV. 

OVER THE WATER 235 



CONTENTS. Vll 



CHAPTER XVI. 



THE CONSTITUTION. — OPECHANCANOUGH. — JACK-OF- 
„ THE-FEATHER 251 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT 273 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE CHARTER ABROGATED 301 

CHAPTER XIX. 

ANNALS 309 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE . . . . .318 

CHAPTER XXI. 

VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL 341 

CHAPTER XXII. 

FRONTIER LIFE 356 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE YOUNG PROTECTOR 383 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

76, JULY FOURTH .... ... 400 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE INSURRECTION 418 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE SIEGE. THE CATASTROPHE 440 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

REVENGE 456 



THE 



YOUTH OP THE OLD DOMINION. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE BATTLE-FIELD. 

" God is great ! Extolled be the perfection of Him 
who changeth others, but is not changed ! " 

Such were the words of Mustapha Bey, as he wiped 
his dripping blade upon the mane of his charger. 

" Thou sayest well, my lord," replied Belgogi, a 
Tartar chief, who bore marks of desperate fight. 
" Praise be to God, who hath enabled us to tri- 
umph ! " 

" There is no strength nor power but in God, the 
High, the Great! But may the victories like this 
which He grants to the faithful be few ! " And there 
was heavy gloom upon his brow as Mustapha sur- 
veyed the battle-field. 

Thirty thousand men lay there, weltering in blood ; 
more than twenty thousand followers of El Islam, and 
nearly ten thousand who had fought under the ban- 
ner of the cross. The dying shriek of the war-horse, 
and the dying groan, imprecation, or prayer of the 
mangled soldier, were making terrific discord there, as 



A THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the sun was sinking to his rest. Such was the scene 
ill the valley of Veristhorne, on the 18th of November, 
in the year of our Lord 1602. At sunrise, forty 
thousand Turks and Tartars had intercepted the re- 
treat of eleven thousand veteran warriors of the Ger- 
man Emperor Rodolph II., under the Earl of Mel- 
dritch, in the narrow and rugged pass where the 
mountain of Rotterton, in the province of Wallachia, 
abuts on the river Altus. The gallant band of Chris- 
tians, cut off from all possibility of retreat, had dis- 
covered their condition without dismay, and prepared 
to die as soldiers should die. At high noon, they had 
received and repulsed the headlong charge of Mus- 
tapha Bey. Belgogi, with his wild squadrons, had 
come to the rescue. Legion had followed legion, 
each fresh and each fierce. Until nearly sunset, the 
Christians had stood firm, dealing dreadful but un- 
availing havoc upon their fierce assailants. Their gen- 
eral, hopeless of all else, had then concentrated the 
remnant of his little army, and heroically headed them 
in the desperate attempt to cut their way through, the 
dense masses before them. With a handful of sur- 
vivors, he had already reached the banks of the Altus. 

" By Allah!" exclaimed Belgogi, "the Nazarenes 
take to the river ! The dogs ! they would rather 
drown than bleed ! May Azraeel * gather them under 
his wing ! " 

Mustapha and his staff looked on in breathless si- 
lence. The fugitives were plunging into the stream, 
and in a few moments they were beyond the reach of 
Moslem sword or spear. A brief struggle with the 

* The angel of death. 



THE BATTLE-FIELD. 3 

waters, and Meldritch, with only thirteen hundred 
faint and bleeding horsemen, gained the farther shore. 
Save a few who were floating, helpless and dying, 
upon the current, all the rest of his eleven thousand 
braves were strewn on the field of strife. With the 
plunge of the last Christian into the waters, all sound 
of conflict ceased. The victors stood gazing with 
admiration, and even with a chivalric satisfaction, 
upon this last and successful struggle of their foes. 
Among the group which we have designated, Mus- 
tapha broke the silence. 

" God, the all-seeing and all-knowing, who hath 
appointed a cause for every event, hath decreed their 
escape. The will of the Compassionate, the Merci- 
ful, is good." Then, turning to one of his aids : 
" Let the signal of recall be given, and the field 
searched for the living. The sword of the believer 
is the key of heaven and of hell." 

With this significant license for the slaughter of 
the disabled Christians, the general and his staff de- 
parted. The slain and wounded lay literally in heaps ; 
for regiment after regiment had grappled over the 
bodies of the fallen, and added their own to the ghast- 
ly pile. The field was now rapidly searched in every 
direction by detached parties, who dragged forth the 
dying from the dead, bearing away their fellows, but 
for the most part despatching the Christians with the 
dagger. Those only were spared whose appearance 
gave promise of a large ransom. 

As the two victorious generals, with their attend- 
ants, were leisurely pursuing their way, the hoof of 
Relgogi's steed struck upon a prostrate cavalier^ who 
writhed convulsively under the blow, uttered a mo- 



4 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

mentary cry of pain, and sank again upon his bloody 
bed. The Tartar, with a hissing curse, aimed a pass- 
ing blow at "the Christian dog," and pursued his 
way. 

The movement and the outcry of the wounded man 
attracted the attention of a rambling party, who in- 
stantly advanced, but found him relapsed into insen- 
sibility. His war-horse lay lifeless, and in his fall had 
pinned to the ground his rider, who still, all uncon- 
scious as he was, retained a rigid grasp upon his 
sword. 

" It was the dog's last howl. The soul of the 
Giaour * has gone to its doom," said one of the par- 
ty as he spurned the body. 

" By Allah ! " exclaimed a comrade, " he has left us 
a goodly spoil. This belt, this cimeter, — three hun- 
dred ducats could not buy the like. Jewels too ! " 
said he, removing a diamond locket and brooch, while 
the other wrenched away the splendid sword of the 
soldier, and a third raised the body to secure its gor- 
geous belt. A deep groan arrested the plunderers, 
one of whom instantly drew his dagger, exclaiming, 
" To thy place, thou accursed ! " 

" By the beard of the Prophet, hold ! — thou shalt 
not," shouted he who supported the knight, and par- 
rying the stroke of his companion. u "WouMst spurn 
Fortune, as thou didst the unbeliever ? " 

" Fortune ! " retorted the other in a mocking tone. 
« Where ? " 

" Art blind ? Look at the steed. Look at his trap- 
pings. Look at the rich appointments of his lord. 

* In Turkey, an unbeliever or infidel. 



THE BATTLE-FIELD. D 

This is no common soldier, Abdallah ! but an officer, 
a nobleman, perchance a prince. He can pay a 
princely ransom, and will bring a price on the mart. 
Put up thy blade." 

u Lo, mine eyes open, Selim ! Thou speakest 
wisely. It is the will of Allah that we sell the dog, 
and who shall resist that which is appointed ? " 

The men now extricated their captive from his 
horse, and, having removed his casque and corslet, 
busily chafed his temples, stanched his wounds, and 
administered such simple restoratives as they chanced 
to have. 

" By Allah ! what have we here ? " said Selim, as 
the pallid face of the officer was exposed. " Some 
one strayea from its mother? Yet it hath a little 
beard, Abdallah! as thou mayest see by inspec- 
tion." 

" Youthful and comely," replied the other ; " scarce- 
ly ripe for battle. No warrior, methinks. He cannot 
have earned his rank by his arm ; it must have come 
to him by birth." 

" Not ripe for battle ! " said Ali, the other of the 
party. " He is a very David." * 

" A David ! " exclamed Abdallah. 

" The lion, and the bear, and the Philistine thought 
David was a man of valor." 

" And a stripling," retorted Ali. 



* Mohammedans acknowledge, as " the uncreated word of God, re- 
vealed to his prophets," the five books of Moses, the Psalms of David, 
and the Gospels of Jesus Christ ; but these they consider greatly cor- 
rupted. The Koran they regard as in an uncorrupted and incorruptible 
state, as surpassing in excellence all preceding revelations, and as hav- 
ing abrogated them. Lane's Arabian Nights, Note 1 to the Introduction. 
1* 



»/ 



6 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

« And this lad ? " 

" Is a stripling and a David." 

" Meanest a prince ? So J judged by his accou- 
tring." 

" Nay ; but a warrior." 

" Thou hast a vein for silly riddles, Ali ! " 

u Abdallah ! Selim ! Ye are bold and war-worn, 
with scars which will exalt you. Yet had you met 
this boy to-day, you would have found him a lion's 
whelp, and might have been in Paradise to-night." 

" Cease prating." 

" What dost mean ? " 

" I know his armor and his war-horse. When the 
unbelievers were hewing their way through our squad- 
rons, that sword was his plaything. Not a stroke of 
it but brought a Moslem to the ground. It was a 
Tartar's spear which felled his horse ; and the horse 
which pinioned him. By Allah! a second David!" 

" Didst see it ? " 

" Wast near ? " 

" I saw it, content to be no nearer. Do I not speak 
truth, O son of perdition ? " seeing the young man 
feebly raise his eyelids. 

It was but a vacant, bewildered look, and for a 
moment only. But now the efforts of his captors 
were becoming so rapidly effectual, that conversation 
ceased, and the whole attention of the soldiers was 
given to the sufferer. At length he became able to 
aid in his own removal, and was taken to a rude shel- 
ter hurriedly constructed for the wounded. When 
found by his captors, the tide of life had almost ebbed 
from the veins of the fallen youth ; for the rush of 
battle had been terrific over him, and many a blow 



THE BATTLE-FIELD. 



had he received from sword and spear, and ironed 
hoof, as he lay there pinioned, but righting to the last. 
Weeks of skilful and even tender nursing elapsed 
before he was restored to strength. His keepers ex- 
ulted over his recovery, as each day developed in him 
not only a remarkable vigor and symmetry of person, 
but a countenance which commanded both admira- 
tion and respect. The expression of his eye, in par- 
ticular, was anything but imperious or defiant ; yet its 
most transient glance disclosed an inward nobleness, 
and power of purpose, which even the haughtiest Turk 
felt and acknowledged. He was now ready for mar- 
ket, and was transported, with some scores of his 
fellow-prisoners, to Axiopolis, or Rassovat, in the 
neighboring province of Bulgaria. Here he was sold, 
as his captors had anticipated, for a high price, and 
became the chattel personal of the Bashaw Bogall. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 

Charatza Tragabigzanda, a budding Turkish 
maiden, was reclining upon the divan of her apart- 
ment in Constantinople. She had just completed her 
morning toilet, and had abandoned herself to the luxu- 
rious repose in which the Muslim-eh of the higher 
class pass much of their time. She was surrounded 
by all the elegant appurtenances of Oriental wealth. 
A beautiful lute lay at her feet ; the cushions upon 
which she reposed were of the most costly stuffs ; 
birds of rare plumage were singing in their gilded 
cages ; the morning air, laden with the fragrance of 
flowers, was gushing freely through the lattice ; while 
a small fountain threw up its jet of sparkling water 
from the centre of the " durka'ah," or depressed por- 
tion of the room. The maiden turned her eyes lan- 
guidly around, and breathed a light sigh expressive of 
dissatisfaction. Her rich drapery, her sparkling jew- 
els, and all the adornments of her apartment, had evi- 
dently failed to give her pleasure. 

This was natural ; for there is an instinctive and 
immortal craving in every human soul which no form 
of luxury or beauty can satisfy, — never, perhaps, 
more distinctly felt or emphatically confessed than 
when the heart has just come to scorn the toys of 
childhood, and to feel the opening aspirations of its 



THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 9 

immortal nature. Then a chance hour of idleness or 
lassitude reveals that self is not enough for self, and 
that " the elements of the world are beggarly " in 
comparison to the want within. 

"A solemn murmur in the soul 
Tells of the world to be ; 
As travellers hear the billows roll 
Before they reach the sea." 

It was this sensation of unsatisfied immortality which 
made the maiden sigh. 

" Fatima ! " she suddenly exclaimed, " thy lute ! 
Strike one of the happy airs of thy country." 

A beautiful Abyssinian slave,* who stood at the 
opposite end of the " aa'h " or saloon, her arms meek- 
ly folded upon her bosom, promptly answered the 
command of her mistress. But in vain. The fair 
maiden soon tired, and, with something like petu- 
lance, reproached her attendant for want of skill. 

" O my mistress ! " humbly replied the girl, " would 
that I had skill ! Command thy slave to something 
which shall make thine heart light. Shall I send for 
a reciter of romances ? " 

" Nay, girl : neither tales nor music suit me. Am 
I not peevish, my faithful one ? " caressing her. " Me- 
thinks the fault is here," laying her hand upon her 
heart. " And yet what sorrow have I ? what want ? 
Allah preserve me ! " 

" May the Compassionate help thee ! " devoutly 
ejaculated the slave. 

* The slaves usually called Abyssinians, although from, the territories 
of the Gallas, appear to have been a mixed race between negroes and 
whites. Many of the females among them were very beautiful. Lane's 
Arabian Nights, Note 13, Chap. I. 



10 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

For a while the mistress relapsed into silence, 
gazing at the play of the fountain with a listlessness 
which pained the devoted and watchful Fatima, who 
was glad when they were interrupted by the entrance 
of a eunuch of the household. With the customary 
Oriental reverence, he solemnly presented, upon a 
salver of exquisite workmanship, a letter whose per- 
fume filled the apartment, and as solemnly retired. It 
was certainly with apathy that the fair lady received 
and held negligently a missive which she well knew 
abounded with protestations of love and adoration. 

" What Allah hath decreed must be fulfilled," she 
murmured. " Heigho ! Girl, this Bashaw talks of 
love. Think you he knows what it is ? " 

" How could he fail to know who is espoused to so 
much loveliness ? " 

" Loveliness, forsooth ! He hath not seen me. For 
aught he knows, I may be as ugly as Iblees." * 

" The beauty of the Houris is known on earth, yet 
no man living hath seen them. So are the charms of 
my mistress known. Birds of the air have reported 
them. And many are they who sigh to possess 
them." 

" Silly girl ! What saith the Prophet of those who 
flatter with their lips ? This Bashaw would be my 
lord and master, and I suppose is appointed unto me 
by Heaven. But as for love, — fie, girl ! Here, cut 
this silk." 

The silken band of the letter was cut, and at length 
the lady languidly opened its folds. As she read, she 
broke into a merry laugh. 

* Chief of the evil Jinn. The evil Jinn are supposed to be " horribly 
hideous." Lane's Arabian Nights, note 21 to the Introduction. 



THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 11 

" O thou most valiant Bashaw ! " she exclaimed. 
" Girl ! of a surety the lord Bogall doth love ! Verses 
do not prove it. Gifts of jewels, and gifts of embroid- 
ered apparel, and gifts of Arabian perfumes, do not 
prove it. But what shall we say now ? O daughter 
of the burning deserts ! When one's betrothed fights, 
and wades in blood, and braves death, to win a gift 
for his mistress, must we not say, * Love hath pos- 
sessed him ' ? And yet methinks love would not 
speak such swelling words." 

" Thy slave is slow of understanding. Didst thou 
speak of winning battles ? " 

u Yes, girl ; I suppose so. The Bashaw Bogall 
hath proved himself a warrior, of which I had not 
dreamed. He hath sent me a gift won in battle, a 
useful gift, — a gift that hath life. Now, I suppose, I 
must love and adore." 

" That hath life ! A bird, my mistress ? " 

" Silly child ! No." 

" A gazelle ? " 

« No." 

The girl's countenance fell, and she clasped the 
hand of her mistress. 

" O my mistress ! do not say that he hath sent 
another to come between thee and me ! " 

" Thou art nearer in thy guess, Fatima." 

The girl covered her face in silence. Soon the hot 
tears streaming through her fingers, and then sobs, 
betrayed her agony. 

" Cease, girl, cease ! " cried her mistress, startled at 
this outburst of affectionate passion. " Thou 'rt 
wrong. < Between me and thee ! ' Never. Hush, 
hush, Fatima ! look up." 



12 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

The girl obeyed, and the roguish, arch look of her 
mistress dispelled her fear and checked her emotion. 

" It would have broken my heart," she murmured. 

" Listen, child ! The decrees of Heaven are mys- 
terious, and it was certainly a mysterious decree 
which sent the Bashaw to fight in a real battle. Of 
a truth he hath done valiantly. He hath captured an 
enemy, and hath sent him to me as a trophy. A 
male memlook,* that is all. Shall a man (always 
saving my hero-lord) come between me and thee ! 
There, wipe thy tears." 

" A man-slave for my mistress ! " 

" He shall be my page, child ; and thine too, per- 
haps, if thou art good. Wilt have him for a lover ? 
I must cherish him as a memorial of — of — of what? 
O, I have it, — of chivalry, and of generosity, and of 
love ; but, especially, of common sense. Think of it, 
child, a useful gift ! I hope it is not old, or ugly, or 
halt, or blind." 

So saying, and fairly roused from her pensive 
humor, she clapped her hands, and was immediately 
answered by the appearance of another attendant. 

" My lord the Bashaw Bogall hath sent me a cap- 
tive. Hath the man arrived ? " 

" O my mistress ! he is guarded by two soldiers in 
the court." 

" Give them entertainment and gold, and bid them 
go in peace. Then conduct the memlook hither." 

" As he is, lady ? " 

« As he is ! How is he ? " 

" Dressed like an infidel and in irons," said the 
slave, putting her hand to her throat. 

* White slave. 



THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 13 

" What ! collared ? muzzled ? Does he bite ? " 

" Nay, O my mistress, he is gentle." 

" Then he is put in irons because he is so strong ? " 

" I do not know, my mistress, he does not look 
evil." 

" Off with his irons. Give him apparel fit for the 
eye of a believer, and send him in with two armed 
eunuchs." 

" Ironed ! " she continued, turning to Fatima, as 
the other withdrew. il It is because he is one of those 
monsters, the Christians. The lord Bogall must be 
a gallant knight to overcome an adversary so ter- 
rible." 

Great was her surprise, when, instead of a half- 
civilized soldier of the ranks, worn and battered by 
service, and of repulsive person, she found in her 
presence a man in the flower of youth, of attractive 
features, of commanding carriage, who, by a digni- . 
fied, courtly inclination, acknowledged her right to^ 
his respect. Such were the manliness and indepen- 
dence of his bearing, that a blush mantled her face, and 
she instinctively dropped her veil, unable to realize at 
the moment that he was her slave.* The captive, 
however, perceived his advantage; for the instant 

* Notwithstanding the strictness with which the Mohammedan women 
are guarded from the eyes of all men, except their near relatives, yet 
" a slave may lawfully see the face of his own mistress ; but this privi- 
lege is seldom granted in the present day to any slave but a eunuch." — 
Lane's Arabian Nights, Chap. IV. note 39. " It is related that Moham- 
med once made a present of a man-slave to his daughter Fatimeh ; and 
when he brought him to her, she had on a garment which was so scanty 
that she was obliged to leave either her head or her feet uncovered ; and 
that the Prophet, seeing her in great confusion on that account, told her 
that she need be under no concern, for that there were none present but 
her father and her slave." — Lane's Modern Egyptians, Part I. Chap. VI. 
2 



14 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

during which her face was uncovered was sufficient 
to reveal to his quick perception that it was not only 
maidenly diffidence, but maidenly admiration, which 
moved his mistress. 

After a brief silence she addressed him. But he 
could only reply by a courteous bow, and by a sign 
denoting his ignorance of her language. Perceiving 
this, she cut short the interview, by bidding the attend- 
ing eunuchs to remove him, and to find some one in 
the household or neighborhood who could communi- 
cate with him, and who should instruct him in the 
Turkish tongue. 

"And let him be informed immediately," she add- 
ed, " that it will be his duty to be in waiting in the 
anteroom of my apartment, to answer my call, and to 
perform all the services of my page." 

Left alone with her confidential attendant, she ex- 
claimed : " By Allah ! the lord Bogall does well to , 
be proud. To make prisoner of such a man is an 
exploit not to be forgotten, or to be thought of lightly. 
What sayest thou, Fatima ? " 

" The diamond on thy brow is the more lustrous 
for its position. A rare slave, my mistress, and fitly 
bestowed." 

The lady Tragabigzanda made no rejoinder; but 
fell to musing, and soon resumed her ordinary occu- 
pations and amusements. 

Several days passed with nothing worthy of obser- 
vation, save that the mistress had so many trivial 
occasions for the presence and services of her mem- 
look, that it seemed wonderful how she could have 
been sufficiently served before his arrival. One day 
she overheard him singing in a low voice. Her atten- 



THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 15 

tion was instantly arrested; and, after listening a 
moment, she suddenly clapped her hands, and the 
soldier page immediately answered the summons. 
Looking with ingenuous earnestness in his face, she 
abruptly addressed him in Italian. 

" Was that an Italian song ? " 

The young man started ; and, with gladness in his 
face and voice, answered in the same language : " It 
was. Thank God that I can converse with your lady- 
ship, in whose custody the fortune of war has placed 
me." 

With a girlish laugh, — half sincere, half sarcastic, 
— she replied : " It will be convenient. Thy name." 

« John Smith." 

" Yoo-seef ? A good name. Well bestowed, I 
trust ; for the patriarch was princely and honored of 
God." 

The young man bowed in acknowledgment of the 
rather singular compliment, but simply replied : " John 
Smith, my lady," endeavoring to correct a careless 
utterance. 

" I understand, — Yoo-seef. The patriarch, too, was 
in bondage in his youth, though not captured in battle. 
Hast thou need of anything for thy comfort ? " 

" Of nothing, lady." 

"It is well. Direct the household to fulfil thy 
wishes. If they obey thee not, they shall be better 
taught. Enough." 

The young man retired to his station without ; and 
an Englishman might have heard him soliloquize 
gravely : " True, my beautiful lady, the patriarch was 
not captured in battle. Nor was he by Potiphar's wife. 
Why, the girl is romantic, and as impressible as wax. 



16 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

One can see that in her eye ; so deep and yet so clear, 
so eloquent of virgin guilessness and trust. John 
Smith! John Smith! have a care! An unguarded, 
untaught maiden heart should be held sacred. John 
Smith ! she miscalls you Joseph ; then be a Joseph." * 

Young as he was, he had great knowledge of the 
world, and rare sagacity in detecting character. 
Without the vanity to suppose the lady enamored 
of himself, he perceived that a mere novice might 
easily excite her to love. He resolved, therefore, to 
guard his own honor and conscience by a scrupulous 
deference, which should serve as a safeguard of her 
peace. Yet bondage was terribly chafing to one who 
had hitherto been as free as the winds of heaven ; and 
he hoped so far to excite the lady's compassion as to 
effect his deliverance. 

The lady Tragabigzanda, on her part, was only 
interested in her slave as any maiden, just conscious 
of needing some unknown good, would have been in 
a youth of his person and manners. Thus her inward 
discontent, and her new and fluttering interest, led 
her, as already remarked, to be constantly demand- 
ing his presence and conversation. She also indulged 
a natural curiosity to know his history. 

" Yoo-seef !" said she, as he was one day in at- 
tendance in her secluded garden, " thou wast of rank 
in the army ? " 



* It should be borne in mind that the young Joseph is the traditional 
Apollo, or model of masculine beauty, with the Moslems. If, therefore, 
the lady was too ready to misunderstand Smith's English pronunciation, 
she was only guilty of giving utterance to her own impressions by a 
delicate and well-marked compliment to his person ; but which he could 
not detect. 



THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 17 

" Only a major, my lady." 

" Only a major ! " with a look of surprise. " If I un- 
derstand the Christian title, thou 'rt young to wear it." 

" I was born, gracious lady, in the year 1579 of the 
Christian era, which is the year 957 of the Hegira, 
from which you date. Thus I am twenty-two years 
of age." 

" Thou must have gained military rank through 
thy family." 

" No, madam ! " said Smith with spirit ; " by my 
sword. Family influence I never enjoyed." 

" A nobleman, and no family influence ! " 

" A nobleman ! " 

" Art not a Bohemian nobleman ? " asked the lady 
tartly, and stopping in her walk. 

" A Bohemian ! A nobleman ! No lady, I am an 
Englishman, and have no pretensions to noble birth." 

" By Allah ! " looking earnestly in his face, " thou 
dost perplex me " ; and for the first time the captive 
officer saw her angry. 

" It is my misfortune to have offended your lady- 
ship?" 

" Wert not taken prisoner when fighting against 
the armies of the faithful ? " 

" No, my lady, I was left for dead upon the field. 
Never yet have I been taken prisoner 'when fight- 
ing.'" * 

The flush of the lady's indignation now changed 
to pallor, and her lip quivered as she resumed. 

" Yoo-seef ! in the name of the Crucified, tell me 
the truth. Wast thou not taken prisoner in battle by 
the Bashaw of Bulgaria, who sent thee hither ? Didst 
thou not yield to his sword ? " 

2 * 



/ 



18 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

The Briton met the keen, flashing look of his mis- 
tress with the coolest scorn ; and answered only by a 
short, sarcastic laugh. Instead of resenting the seem- 
ing insult, she resumed, in a tone of real distress : 
" Answer me, Yoo-seef ! By Jesus, answer me ! " 

" Gracious lady, I never saw the Bashaw of Bul- 
garia until he bought me a chained captive in the 
market of Axiopolis." 

" As thou hopest for Paradise, as thou believest in 
him of Nazareth, this is true ? " 

" As I so hope, and so believe, it is." 

With a look as though she would fathom his very 
soul, she passionately stamped her foot, bit her lip, 
bade the Abyssinian follow her, and returned to her 
apartments with the stately air of an offended queen ; 
leaving the Englishman very unpleasantly bewil- 
dered. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 

It was no childish passion which impelled the lady 
to her retirement; but a keen sense of indignity to 
her sex. Her womanly nature had been trifled with, 
and was roused ; and with right womanly spirit did 
she measure to resent the wrong. All this was be- 
trayed to the watchful scrutiny of her female attend- 
ant, by the compressed lip, the dilated eye, the firm 
and haughty step with which her mistress traversed 
and retraversed her hall. Fatima, who had heard, but 
had not understood, the dialogue in the garden, was 
alarmed by such strange and towering emotion in one 
hitherto gentle, and even indolent, in all her ways. 
But she humbly waited in silence for the mystery to 
be revealed. 

" Ha, girl ! art here ? " said the lady sharply, and 
stopping in her nervous walk. 

" The loving slave is always at the right hand of 
her mistress." 

The lady Charatza resumed her walk until she 
could refrain no longer. 

" Ha, ha ! " she exclaimed, with a hysterical laugh ; 
" a hero ? a warrior ? How cowards do pant for glory, 
and how they crawl to win it! O thou most in- 
famous ! " 



20 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

An involuntary exclamation escaped the slave, who 
added, with signs of anger : " Hath the memlook 
dared to offend? O my mistress ! he speaks a tongue 
unknown to thy slave." 

" No, child, no. It is the dog Bogall ! the Bashaw 
of Bulgaria ! By Allah ! he hath dared to lie, — and 
to me, — me, the lady Tragabigzanda ! Truckles for 
a slave ; buys him ; sends him to me as a trophy of 
his own chivalry ; and all the while talks of love, — 
the reprobate ! Pah ! win my heart and my hand by 
red-hot perjury ! Stoop to compound a lie, — sugar 
the cursed potion with the dialect of love, — and then 
administer it to me ! to me ! Ha ! only a silly woman 
am I ? a soft, credulous maiden ? fit thing for a man 
to sport with and befool ? By Allah, — a foul dishonor ! 
Child ! does love make a man deflower his honor ; 
strangle his manliness ; degrade his soul ; insult his 
mistress ? O the detestable ! the accursed I O Allah ! 
I would rather be a withered virgin, than wife to such 
a thing! Ay; and would rather mate with such a 
thing — than be it ! " 

Thus did she vent her indignation against the im- 
postor who had practised upon her credulity. 

When, at length, her passion had subsided, her 
curiosity respecting the young officer's history was 
renewed and strengthened ; and she demanded it ; 
having first, in artless confidence, made known how 
bitterly incensed she was at what she called "the 
outrage " of her professed lover. Disgusted and 
wounded by the duplicity of the Turk, how natural 
that she should turn with more than common interest 
to the young and attractive Christian, the unconscious 
tool of a wanton imposition. 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 21 

" Yoo-seef," said she, with an inflexion which star- 
tled the officer, " relate unto me thy history. Thou 
wast English-born, thou say est." 

" Gracious lady, my story is not worth the hearing. 
I was a restless boy, and strayed away for adventure. 
The Moslem war well-nigh ended my rambles, and 
the avarice of my captors reserved me for your service. 
That is all." 

" Nay ; but give me the tale, — for I am weary, 
sick at heart, and need something, something — 
Allah ! what is it ? — to refresh me." 

" It will weary thee, lady ; but I obey." 

" I think I must have been a rover born ; for I can- 
not remember when it was not irksome to stay at 
home. I was sent to school very young ; but longed 
to see the world, and to encounter any sort of adven- 
tures which might require exertion and courage. So, 
when I was thirteen years of age, I sold my books 
and satchel to raise money for travel ; but was pre- 
vented from my purpose by the death of my parents." 

" Then thou wast poor ? " 

" Lads are not intrusted with much money, lady ; 
and my father would not have consented to my going 
into foreign lands so young. He left me a fair estate, 
and under the care of guardians who sent me to a 
great merchant to make money by traffic, — a busi- 
ness which I scorned. I ran away ; and my guard- 
ians furnished me with ten shillings — about three 
piastres — to get rid of me." 

" To get rid of thee ! " 

" Yes, lady ; they did not like the care of a restless 
boy ; and they hoped that I might break my neck, and 
they get my fortune. So I crossed the sea, and 
wandered to Paris the great city of France." 



22 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" Thy age, then ? " 
" Fifteen." 
" With friends ? " 
M Without friend or companion." 
" Fifteen years, three piastres, and alone ! " 
" Yes, lady ; save a guardian angel." 
" Guardian angels in the Christian religion ! " 
" Yes, lady ; to those who love God." 
" Strange ! It is like our religion. Every Moslem 
believer is attended by two guardian and recording 
angels ; one of whom writes his good actions, the 
other his evil actions. Well, — thou wast in Paris, 
with three piastres, and the angel." 

" The piastres had taken flight, and certain others 
which I had earned. I had only the angel, lady, 
who brought me to an acquaintance with a gentle- 
man of Scotland. He was pleased to consider me a 
youth of some capacity, and befriended me. We 
soon parted ; when I went to the Low Countries to 
join my countrymen in fighting to free the people 
from the tyranny of Spain. I served there between 
three and four years ; giving myself not only to prac- 
tise in the ranks with spear and sword and battle-axe, 
but to horsemanship and the science of war. I wished 
to perfect myself in all martial knowledge and exploit 
which my tender years could attain to." 

" A born rover, — saidst thou? A born soldier, 
rather." 

" I then returned to England, where I passed some 
time in seclusion ; studying, and practising with horse 
and spear. I then determined to seek my fortune in 
the wars against the Turks. You know, lady, how 
they hate each other." 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 23 

" Yes ; and why is it ? I am sure I hated all 
Christians, and thought them monsters; with great 
teeth like a dog's, with jaws smeared with Moslem 
blood, with great, glaring, bloodshot eyes, and covered 
with hair like apes, until — until — " 

The lady faltered, slightly colored, and signed to 
the Englishman to proceed. He smiled ; and for an 
instant their eyes met, — an occurrence not without 
its effect upon the susceptible maiden. 

" And thou hadst the courage to set eyes on me!" 
said Smith ; perceiving what she had been about to 
say. 

" It was curiosity. But thou wast under an armed 
guard; else I had not. dared." 

" And the lady Tragabigzanda was sadly disap- 
pointed." 

" Not sadly ; but — but — I was mistaken. So thy 
sword was against the Turks." 

" Not immediately. I had no patrons, and was 
obliged to seek my fortune. Before landing in France, 
I was plundered by fellow-passengers, who managed to 
escape ; and was forced to sell my cloak to pay for my 
passage. But a lad nineteen years of age, who carries 
honesty in his face, does not fail, in distress, to secure 
the sympathies and kind offices even of strangers. 
Men and women of rank and wealth befriended me ; 
and with them I might have recreated as long as I 
would ; but I could not bear either indolence or de- 
pendence. I betook myself, therefore, to wandering 
again. My purse was soon empty. In an uninhab- 
ited forest I was overcome with hunger and fatigue, 
lost heart, — the only time, lady, — and threw myself 
upon the ground to die." 



24 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" Poor youth ! how he must have suffered ! " mur- 
mured the lady to herself. She might as well have 
spoken aloud, for Smith read precisely the same words 
in her face. 

" But a kind-hearted farmer found me ; took me to 
his house ; cheered me and nursed me ; and sent me 
on my way with money. May God reward him ! " 

" Charatza Tragabigzanda would, if she could," 
exclaimed the lady with energy. 

" Not long after, I accidentally met one of the party 
who robbed me. We drew, and I brought him to the 
ground. With the sword at his throat, I made him 
confess his villany in presence of the by-standers ; but 
this was all my satisfaction. 

" I then reached Marseilles, in the South of France, 
— you see it here, lady," — for by this time they were 
studying geography together, — " whence I took to 
the sea. The vessel was crowded with pilgrims on 
their way to Rome, to whom I became an object of 
hatred and persecution so soon as they knew that I 
was an Englishman and a Protestant." 

" A Protestant, — what is that ? " 

" Your ladyship surely knows that he who is called 
the Head of the Christian Church, or God's lieutenant 
here, is the Pope of Rome." 

" Certainly, — by Christians not of the Greek 
Church." 

u But many Christians, and almost all English- 
men, acknowledge no Head of the Church but 
Christ. That is, they protest against the author- 
ity of the Pope ; and hence are called Protesters, 
or Protestants. The Papal Christians have always 
hated and persecuted the Protestants ; and my fellow- 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 25 

passengers followed the example of their ancestors. 
We were hardly at sea when we were driven into 
Toulon by a storm, — it lies here, lady, a little farther 
east. We again had bad weather after putting out 
from Toulon ; which the Papists attributed to the dis- 
pleasure of God toward a vessel so wicked as to carry 
a Protestant. They piously concluded, therefore, that 
they should never have fair weather while I was on 
board. So, being a hundred to one, they tossed me 
into the sea." 

" Allah ! what barbarians ! Now I see — now I see 
why I had such horrid ideas of Christians. They of 
whom I had heard must have been Papists. But I 
see thou wast not drowned." 

" No, lady ; I swam until I reached a little island 
called St. Mary. It is not laid down on this map, 
but its place is here, — off the harbor of Nice." 

" And there found hospitality ? " 

" Such as kine and goats could give, and not unac- 
ceptable to a hungry lad." 

" No people ! " 

" Not even an herdsman." 

" But thou couldst not swim to the main, surely ? " 

" Possibly. But the next day I was taken off by a 
French ship on her way to Alexandria." 

" But her crew, — were not they Papists ? and would 
not they drown a Protestant ? " 

" They were Papists, lady ; but the captain was 
neighbor and friend of a French Earl who had re- 
ceived me as his guest. For the nobleman's sake, 
he befriended me. Besides, we had no more storm. 
For both reasons the Protestant was spared." 

" Surely thou must be beloved of Allah, that he 



26 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

hath saved thee from such perils, and raised to thee 
friends in such straits." 

" God is often kind to those who are not good ; or, 
as our holy book says, he maketh his sun to shine 
upon the evil and upon the good, and sendeth his rain 
upon the just and upon the unjust." 

" Good ; but he does not save and befriend the 
wicked." 

" Lady, I do not profess to be good ; nor do I pro- 
fess to be wicked. But surely God hath befriended 
me. My being thrown into the sea was the last of 
my misfortunes, until I fell in the valley of the Altus ; 
if, indeed, I should call that a misfortune which hath 
made me thy servant." 

O Smith ! Smith ! Where was thy prudence ? The 
color tinged the lady's cheek ; yet the eye did not 
droop. This, and her quick reply, — u Thou mayst 
not find it a misfortune," — showed that her sensation 
was anything but unpleasant. 

" Now, then, tell me of thy prosperous days." 

" On our return from Alexandria we cruised for 
a while here, — along the eastern and northeastern 
shores. On our way we hailed a Venetian argosy, 
who returned our compliment with a broadside. Of 
course we must fight. We captured her, and she 
proved a rich prize. My portion of the spoils was 
sufficient for my purpose of travel ; and at my own 
request I was set on shore in Piedmont. Thence I 
made the tour of Italy, to satisfy my eye with fair 
places and the kingdom's nobility. At Venice I re- 
sumed my original purpose of joining the armies of 
Germany in the war against the Turks, and imme- 
diately proceeded to Gratz, in Styria, the residence of 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 27 

the Archduke of Austria. There I met with some of 
my countrymen, who introduced me to several officers 
of the Imperial army. I told them my wishes, and 
was immediately placed upon the staff of one of 
them, — the Earl of Meldritch, — who was a colonel 
of cavalry. One of our generals, Lord Ebersbaught, 
was soon after closely besieged in Olympach, and in 
imminent danger. A body of soldiery — ten thou- 
sand — was sent for his relief; of which I was one. 
But our numbers were so few, and the besiegers 
so strong, that we could effect nothing unless by 
concert with our friends in the city. We could not 
send a messenger, and how could we effect a commu- 
nication? In this dilemma, I told our commander 
that I had previously stated to Lord Ebersbaught a 
system of telegraphing which would be useful in 
such an emergency. I was immediately directed to 
employ it. My signals were seen, understood, and 
answered ; and by this means a sally was made by 
our friends at midnight, in concert with an attack by 
us. The Turks were thrown into confusion, and we 
relieved our friends by adding two thousand picked 
men to their garrison. This discouraged your coun- 
trymen, and they abandoned the siege. As a reward, 
I took my first step as an officer, with the command 
of two hundred and fifty cavalry." 

" All Constantinople heard of that disgraceful re- 
treat," interrupted the lady with indignation ; " and 
thou wast the means of our disgrace ? " 

" Thou didst ask for the truth, fair lady. Should I 
lie, like the Bashaw of Bulgaria ? " 

A bland reproach, the lightest touch upon a rank- 
ling wound, and the least savor of flattery, — each the 



28 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

more pungent for the lady's growing tenderness, — 
what woman could hold her displeasure ? 

" Rather slay a thousand Turks than be a dog like 
him." 

" But, lady, we slew four thousand." 

" Well ; four thousand, then. Proceed." 

" Our army then had a season of rest in winter 
quarters." 

" Poor man ! idleness thou couldst not bear, thou 
sayest." 

" I was never idle, lady, but upon compulsion." 

" What, pray, but idleness in soldiers' barracks ? 
Amusement ? Pleasure ? The Christian's shame, — 
strong drink ? " 

" Rather than take quietly the sneer of a fair lady, 
I will say that I devoted my respite from active ser- 
vice to amusement and pleasure ; but not to strong 
drink, the damnable invention of an Arabian Mos- 
lem." 

" But forbidden by the Prophet, whose name be 
blessed ! But pleasure and amusement sit at the gate 
of idleness." 

" My amusement is study, my pleasure the acqui- 
sition of knowledge." 

16 What study ? what knowledge ? " 

" Of my profession, lady ; — the manoeuvres of ar- 
mies ; the combination of forces ; the planning of an 
action by which ten thousand men may route twenty 
thousand ; the art of skilful retreat, one of the greatest 
achievements of war ; the structure, defence, and 
storming of fortifications ; the study of an enemy's 
tactics and defences ; and any other art, science, 
strategy, or even handicraft, pertaining to war. Wax 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 29 

is a science, lady ; not mere butchery. Many a man 
who can fight well hand to hand is no warrior. Had 
I not studied, we could not have saved Olympach." 

" By Allah! was thy mother of the offspring of the 
good Jinn ? * or of Suleyman Ibn Daood, whose power 
over the Jinn was absolute ? f Thou seemest to crave 
wisdom more than mortal ! " 

" I confess my ignorance of such beings, lady. My 
parents were of the English gentry. What thou 
pleasest to call wisdom is little compared with that of 
many of my countrymen." « 

" Then the English must be sages born. By Allah ! 
thou dost puzzle me again. You opened a new cam- 
paign ? " 

" Against the city of Alba Regalis, called impreg- 
nable, in Lower Hungary." 

u Which was wrested from the faithful after we 
had held it sixty years, one of the splendid jewels of 
our crown. Did Allah raise thee up to execute his 

* "Jinn " or Genii are an imaginary race of beings created of smokeless 
fire ; of a rank between angels, created of light, and men, created of earth. 
They are supposed to be" aerial, with transparent bodies, which can as- 
sume various forms and become invisible at pleasure. They are of two 
classes, — the good and the evil. If good, they are generally resplend- 
ently handsome ; if evil, horribly hideous. In the text, therefore, a per- 
sonal compliment is insinuated. They eat and drink, and propagate 
their species, sometimes in conjunction with human beings (compare 
Gen. vi. 6), it/ which case the offspring partakes of the nature of both 
parents. See Lane's Arabian Nights, Note 21 to the Introduction. 

i " Solomon the son of David." He is said to have obtained absolute 
power over the Jinn, by virtue of a talisman or seal-ring sent to him 
from heaven, on which was engraved " the most great name " of God. 
This was partly of brass and partly of iron. With the brass he stamped 
his written commands to the good Jinn ; with the iron, those to the evil 
Jinn, or devils. Solomon compelled them to aid in the building of the 
temple of Jerusalem. Ibid. 
3* 



30 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

judgments upon the Turks, — a knotted scourge for 
the back of the Ottoman ? When the Bashaw of 
Buda, then a prisoner at Vienna, heard of the loss of 
Alba Regalis, he prostrated himself a whole day, with- 
out food or drink, his face in the dust, praying to the 
Prophet, who, as he said, had been all the year angry 
with the Turks. By Allah! that year — that year 
was the very and only year in which thou — thou hadst 
served against us ! Yes, and thou didst take the city 
by winged fire ! By Allah ! thou art of the race of 
Jinn ! " 

" Beautiful lady, thou dost forget my humble rank. 
I was but a subaltern there." 

" Who," demanded the lady with flushed face, — 
" who invented those fiery flying balls, which made 
havoc of lives and dwellings and merchandise ? Who 
hurled them by night over the battlements, like hissing 
meteors from the sky, into the very squares and public 
places where the people did congregate the most? 
Meldritch ? the Archduke Matthias ? the Archduke 
Ferdinand ? the Duke Mercury ? Who ? " 

Smith was silent, — at a loss how to meet the pa- 
triotic wrath of the lady, through whose " compassion " 
and youthful generosity he hoped to secure his free 
dom. But, falling back upon his natural integrity and 
ingenuousness, he met her eye calmly, and answered : 
" He whom thou art pleased to call thy slave." 

" I thought so. Fire and speed are vital properties 
of the Jinn. Yoo-seef ! I should fear thee, did I not 
know that the evil Jinn are of loathsome form and 
visage, and the good fair and comely. But shall we 
not all bow to the will of Allah ? Enough of Alba 
Regalis. Thou didst then meet Hassan Bashaw and 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 31 

his sixty thousand men, and routed him with thy 
twenty thousand, and thy manoeuvres and combina- 
tions and other magic which thou callest science." 

" Not I, my lady : my general and our soldiers." 

" And thyself." 

" Little did I do but bleed." 

" Wast wounded ? " exclaimed the maiden, with a 
start. 

" Severely, lady." 

" Did not thy veins spout flame ? " * 

" Blood, lady ; hot and steaming, to be sure, but as 
pure blood as that of any mortal." 

" The Jinn are mortal." 

" As the blood of any man; for I perceive thou 
speakest of what we call Genii, of which I have 
read." 

" Jinnee or no Jinnee,f thou art more than a com- 
mon mortal, Yoo-seef! or my heart — my brain, I 
mean — misleads me. What next, O son of the fire- 
spirits ? " 

" I was then sent, with eight thousand men, under 
Count Meldritch, into Transylvania, to fight against 
the native Prince Sigismund Bathor, who was assailed 
at once by Turk and Christian. The Count was a 
Transylvanian, and all his estates lay there. He owed 
no allegiance to Germany ; and his officers and sol- 
diers were mostly mercenaries, though veterans. He 
would not fight against his own country, and joined 
his forces to the fainting bands of Sigismund against 
the Moslem." 

* " The fire of which the Jinnee is created circulates in his veins, in 
place of blood. Therefore, when he receives a mortal wound, this fire 
issuing from his veins generally consumes him to ashes." — Lane. 

t The singular of Jinn. 



32 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" And thou too ? " 

" I owed no allegiance. I had before repented and 
lamented to have seen so many Christians slaughter 
one another ; and therefore would only try my fortune 
against the Turks, who now occupied the very estates 
of the Count." 

" Ay, I know. The city of Regal, in the wild and 
rocky mountains of Zarham. Gracious Allah ! by 
what spirit, by what fate, have I, a timid girl, ignorant 
and thoughtless of war, been led this past year to 
watch and trace the war-path of an unknown man, 
whom Destiny has now sent to me and to — But 
what is written is written ; and is revealed only as it 
cometh to pass. Regal, strong by nature, strong by 
art, would have proved impregnable, had not Yoo-seef, 
the "Whip of Destiny, been there ! Tell me the trage- 
dy of the Lord Turbashaw, of Grualgo, of Bonny 
Mulgro." 

" Our forces were increased by nine thousand men, 
under Prince Moyses, who took the chief command. 
The city was accessible only on one side, through 
ravines narrow, steep, and dangerous. Consequently 
our approaches with artillery were step by step, and 
every step in blood. After we had gained the table- 
land of the mountain, our enemies laughed us to scorn 
for what they called our sluggishness, for even then it 
was nearly a month before we could complete our 
trenches and plant our batteries. They told us that 
we were too lazy ; that we were growing fat for want 
of work, and their ladies weary for lack of some 
knightly amusement. For their sakes — the Turkish 
ladies' — the Lord Turbashaw proposed to meet any 
captain of the Christian army in single combat, the 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 33 

head of the vanquished and all he might carry to the 
field to be the victor's. By this time our mettle was 
well up, and so many claimed the honor that no elec- 
tion could be made but by lot. It fell upon one of 
some prowess, but no distinction. Great preparations 
were made, and a truce agreed upon for the occasion. 
At the time appointed, the Lord Turbashaw entered 
the lists clad in splendid armor, brilliant with gold 
and jewels, and attended by three Janizaries. The 
Christian soon appeared, simply clad, followed by a 
single page, who bore his lance. The ramparts were 
thronged with ladies and armed men, and the Chris- 
tians were drawn out in their most imposing battle- 
array. The combatants passed each other, midway of 
the lists, with courteous salute, and assumed their 
proper stations. There was a moment's breathless 
silence. The trumpet sounded. The knights met at 
full speed. The Lord Turbashaw fell from his horse, 
his brain pierced by the Christian's spear ; who, un- 
harmed, and finding his adversary lifeless, appropriat- 
ed his head and his rich accoutrements, and returned 
the body to the city." 

" And Grualgo ? " 

" Was a bosom friend of the Lord Turbashaw, and 
by repute a fierce and powerful warrior. To revenge 
his death, he challenged the same officer on the next 
day, proposing to stake his own head, besides his 
horse and armor, for the chance of redeeming the head 
of his friend. The challenge could not be refused. 
The meeting was attended with the same pomp and 
anxious suspense as the former. At the first onset, 
their lances were shivered by the shock. The Turk 
was nearly unhorsed, but the Christian sat firm in the 



34 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

saddle. They then had recourse to their fire-arms. 
The Christian was slightly wounded, the Turk not 
scathed. At the second shot his bridle-arm was shat- 
tered, his horse became unmanageable, himself thrown 
upon the ground, when his forfeited head, his horse 
and armor, were secured as the trophies ; but the body, 
with its rich apparel, neither of which was forfeited, 
were sent back to the city." 

" A fair combat and a gallant one. The third ? " 
" The Christian might have been content, lady, had 
he not been a hot-headed fellow and puffed up by 
success. But he must tempt fortune needlessly. So, 
obtaining leave from his general, he sent a message 
into the city, saying that he feared the ladies had not 
had amusement enough, and that he should be happy 
to furnish more, provided any one could be found who 
dared meet him in the lists. He would stake the 
heads which he had won, and his own, on the issue. 
Bonny Mulgro, a stout knight, accepted the challenge, 
but prudently declined, as he had -the right to do, the 
lance ; and selected the pistol, the battle-axe, and the 
sword. In the use of the formidable battle-axe he 
was particularly skilled. They met accordingly. The 
pistols were harmless. Then came the battle-axe, to 
which the Christian was but little accustomed. A 
tremendous blow disarmed him of his axe, and nearly 
felled him from his horse. A shout from the walls 
roused the half-stunned man, so that he recovered him- 
self in time to evade, by dexterous management of a 
well-trained steed, the furious blows of his adversary. 
He now drew his sword, and, by God's assistance, 
ran it through the body of the Turk. Thus ended the 
tragedy of which your ladyship inquired. It was 
enough for all parties." 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 35 

" A heroic Christian, and a valiant. Methinks the 
Bashaw of Bulgaria would not have accepted his chal- 
lenge. Ha ! what thinkest thou ? " 

" I know nothing of him, but from thine own lips, 
lady." 

" But this gallant knight must have had a name." 

" Your ladyship did not inquire." 

u He was rather young, was he not ? " 

" Not old." 

" Had he not some foreign name, hard to a Turkish 
lady's tongue, — something like Yoo-seef ? I have a 
land of inner sense which whispers so ; and, on my 
faith, I doubt there was but one Christian there could 
have done or dared it. Have I not seen him ? " 

" Most beautiful lady, thou hast drawn this tale 
from me. I have obeyed to the letter of thy ques- 
tions, save the last. Its true answer I perceive thou 
hast divined." 

" Thy reward ? " 

" A pompous parade, a charger, a military belt of 
value, and money, from our general. The rank of 
major from the Count. Afterwards, Prince Sigis- 
mund, visiting the camp, gave me his picture set in 
gold, and pledged to me a pension of three hundred 
ducats, and a patent of nobility." 

" And you passed to other conquests after the sack 
of Regal." 

" We did, lady. But Sigismund, seeing his people 
ruined by this double war, magnanimously preferred for 
their sakes to yield his princedom to the Emperor, and 
retired, as a private nobleman, upon a princely pension. 
His armies then entered the service of the Emperor. 
We were sent to Wallachia to aid the inhabitants 



36 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

against their Turkish ruler. We defeated the Turkish 
army of forty thousand men, and the province came 
under the rule of the Emperor. They again made head 
in Moldavia. Meldritch, misinformed of their num- 
bers, advanced with but thirteen thousand men to fight 
forty-five thousand. By a new and frightful kind of 
wild-fire, which — laugh as you will, lady — I invent- 
ed, we scared the Turks and reduced their numbers 
by five thousand, without loss to ourselves ; retreat- 
ing, as soon as we discovered the strength of the ene- 
my, to gain the fortified city of Rotterton, within 
three leagues of which is the field on which I was left 
for dead." 

" Give me the particulars. I know nothing of them, 
except that the Lord Bashaw of Bulgaria was a hero 
there." 

Smith related the details of the slaughter, the issue 
of which was sketched at the opening of our narra- 
tive. 

The conversation which we have given above was 
not continuous, but had been resumed from time to 
time as opportunity was contrived by the lady, whose 
romantic interest increased with every day's recital, 
and with her own observation of her captive's court- 
ly phrase and noble deportment. It is perhaps need- 
less to state, that the grace and manliness of his per- 
son, his frankness, modesty, and high-mindedness, had 
completely taken captive the heart of a secluded, un- 
sophisticated maiden, just waked to a sense of an 
unknown want, and just stung by the wanton mean- 
ness of a soulless wooer. Smith could not shut his 
eyes to the fact ; neither, with all his regard for her 
happiness, could he shut his eyes to his only hope of 
freedom. 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 37 

But these conversations did not end here. The 
enamored maiden demanded their repetition, — the 
minute filling up of the outline, — the answering of a 
thousand questions. In short, she made her captive 
the theme of all their interviews, the hero of every 
scene which she led him to describe. Yet she was 
timid and cautious ; at an early stage " feigning sick- 
ness when she sought the society of her slave, that 
she might discard other company." Alas, poor Fa- 
tima ! 

There was a jealous and watchful mother on the 
premises, who knew full well the danger of proximity 
and free conversation between a simple maiden and a 
fascinating youth, even if he were a slave and an 
infidel. The lady Tragabigzanda perceived that she 
was spied, and took the alarm. For a while she 
would heroically suspend their intimacy ; then, rest- 
less and suffering, she would again command his 
presence. At length, the swelling tide of her passion 
surmounted even the barrier of virgin bashfulness. 
Her confession was not made in words at first, but in 
tears. Smith could not but pity her, whom he really 
esteemed, and might have loved had she been Chris- 
tian and English-born. He was grateful for her kind- 
ness ; blamed, and yet justified himself in his heart; 
and replied to her sobs with words of real respect and 
tenderness, showing, but with a gentlemanly delicacy, 
that he understood her emotions. At length she raised 
her head, and repeated, in a tone of touching simplici- 
ty and confidence, an extempore version, in Italian, of 
an Arabic song. 

" I wished for my beloved ; but when I beheld him 
I was confounded, and possessed neither tongue nor 

4 



38 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

eye. I hung down my head in honor and reverence ; 
and would have hidden what I felt, but it would not 
be concealed." 

The English soldier was touched to the very soul 
by an avowal, so delicate yet ingenuous, of a pure and 
trustful love, — by an apology so true to nature for 
her want of self-control. He could not conceal his 
emotion, although he could give no passionate re- 
sponse to hers ; for he knew the insurmountable bar- 
riers of religion, country, and education. She gave 
him, however, no time for words. Nerving herself 
resolutely to the effort, she said, in a firm and decided 
voice, " Yoo-seef ! thou must fly. My mother will 
sell thee. I shall arrange it. To-morrow, — to-mor- 
row. Leave me now, — leave me to deplore my weak- 
ness." 

" But gentle lady — " 

" Nay, leave me ! " and, clapping her hands, there 
was no alternative, as Fatima instantly answered the 
summons. 

" Thy slave is at thy feet," said the affectionate girl. 

" Fatima ! thou lovest thy mistress ? " caressing her 
gently. 

The slave raised her lustrous eyes with a wonder- 
ing, mournful expression. 

" I know it, child ; I know it. Praise be to Allah, 
how good it is to be loved ! Women were made for 
it, girl. But to be mocked by an ape in sword-belt 
and turban, — pshaw ! it passeth woman's meekness." 

"Tell him to woo some wandering Ghool,* my 
mistress." 

* Properly speaking, the Ghool is the female demon of a lower order 



THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 39 

" Ha, girl! thou art shrewd. But thinkest thou he 
could win her ? " 

" By the help of Iblees,* perhaps." 

" Perhaps, were he a man. Ghools do not content 
themselves with things. But let us not disgrace our- 
selves by talking of him. Give me coffee, child ; and 
disrobe me. It is early, but I will seek my rest, for I 
am aweary." 

of the evil Jinn ; though the name is vulgarly applied to both sexes, the 
male of which is called Kutrub. They feed alike upon human bodies, 
freshly slain by themselves or obtained from the tomb, and assume a 
human form at pleasure. The Ghool appears to men in the desert, and 
suffers herself to be solicited by them. Lane. 
* Satan ; the Devil ; the Prince of the evil Jinn. 



CHAPTER IV. 

SELF-EMANCIPATION. 

The simple and melodious chants from the mina- 
rets of the city, summoning the faithful to prayer, 
roused the lady from her uneasy slumbers to the light 
of a glorious morning, before the sun's rays had kissed 
the waters of the Bosphorus, or even the tops of the 
neighboring mountains.* 

The mistress and slave saluted each other with 
pious benedictions, and bowed side by side in prayer 
to God.f The lady Charatza arose from her prostra- 
tion, strengthened in her purpose. In her usual quiet 
voice she said : " Fatima ! bid Ibn Ali saddle two of 
my fleetest horses, prepared for a long journey, and to 
be ready with all speed to start at a moment's warn- 
ing. Then return." 

The slave glided from the apartment, and quickly 



* The time for morning prayer with the Mohammedans is " day- 
break" ; or, " generally, on the first faint appearance of light in the east." 
Lane's Modern Egyptians. 

t " The Prophet did not forbid women to attend public prayers in a 
mosque, but pronounced it better for them to pray in private. Formerly 
women were permitted (and perhaps are still in some countries), but 
were obliged to place themselves apart from the men, and behind them ; 
because the Muslims are of opinion that the presence of females inspires 
a different kind of devotion from that which is requisite in a place dedi- 
cated to the worship of God." — Lane's Modem Egyptians, Part I. 
Chap. III. 



SELF-EMANCIPATION. 41 

re-appeared, but not before her mistress had thrice 
ejaculated, " O Allah, pity me ! help me ! " 

" Now, child, water and my robes. Blessed be He 
who giveth water in abundance, and raiment that is 
comely ! Should we not rejoice in purity and beauty ? " 

The cheerful slave adroitly and proudly performed 
her usual task, and attended her mistress to her com- 
mon apartment. 

" Now send to me Yoo-seef, and wait without." 

She met his respectful salutation with an open but 
dispassionate look, and said, in firm and unembar- 
rassed tones : " Yoo-seef ! I have conquered weak- 
ness. True love is no sin, and should bring no blush. 
Nor is it selfish. The suffering of yesterday has 
opened my eyes to the difficulties which hedge up 
my — my — passion. I cannot recall, but I can 
master it. Ay, I would crush it, and with it my 
life, as I would — as — I — like that," — putting her 
silken slipper on a stray insect, — " rather than thou 
shouldst come to harm. Nay, no words ; hear me. 
My resolve is taken, and in the name of Allah Most 
High. Thou art a slave but in name. I am the 
real one, and bow to destiny. The slave must suffer 
for her lord. I accept the decree. Couldst thou re- 
turn love for love, our lives would hang by a thread. 
But more : if thy stay here is prolonged, thou wilt 
surely be torn from me, and sold to a real slavery. I 
anticipate the rupture, that I may prevent the doom. 
Horses, and a faithful slave for thy guide, are in readi- 
ness. The Bashaw of Nalbritz in Cambia, the near- 
est province of Tartary, and on the shore of the Sea of 
Azof, is my brother. In this " — putting in his hand 
a letter — " I have commended thee to his protection 

4# 



42 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

and kindness in the name of God. I have told him 
that it is thy wish to acquire the habits and language 
of the Turks. There remain until I am mistress of 
my own person, which will be soon. From that 
time, my destiny and thine are at thy disposal. If 
you reject my virgin love, I bow. Seek thy country 
and kinsfolk, and be happy. My love and prayer only 
will follow thee, like spirits, silent and trackless. They 
shall not harm nor annoy thee, Yoo-seef. Fare- 
well." 

" Gracious lady ! " said Smith, in a tumult of visible 
emotion, " thy decision is noble, kind, and wise. I 
obey it. Permit me to say that thine avowal I re- 
spect, and shall cherish its remembrance with pride. 
I have not been untouched by the loveliness of person 
which — " 

" Nay, my lo?'d, refrain. I have not sought to un- 
lock thine heart. Nor do I : it is thine own sanctua- 
ry. I am too young in my new resolve to bear its 
disclosures, whether of good or ill to me. Yesterday 
I was a girl ; to-day, a woman. I would remain so, 
and unshaken ; but thy words are unsafe for me. 
Thy moments, too, are more than life both to thee and 
to me. Thy departure must be a flight. Let Ibn Ali 
come to me for directions. The moment he returns 
to you, mount and be off. Trust him, and use thy 
spurs. Once more, my lord, farewell. May Allah 
preserve thee! May the name of Allah encompass 
thee ! May God let down the curtain of his protec- 
tion over thee ! " 

The grateful youth, touched by the serious pathos 
of her emotion, bent upon his knee, and would have 
taken her hand. She shrank ; but then extended it 



SELF-EMANCIPATION. 43 

with a confiding frankness, saying : " Be it so this 
once ; for the future, let God determine." 

Kissing the fair and trembling hand, Smith said, in 
an agitated voice : " Thanks, lady, thanks ! May the 
captive's prayer bring thee God's blessing ! " — and 
was gone. 

The slave Ibn Ali received minute but rapid orders, 
and the two were soon scouring the country north- 
wards. 

The lady had borne with stoic fortitude the severe 
ordeal of the morning ; but when the scene was over, 
and the necessity for self-control, she sank upon her 
cushions in a flood of tears. The affectionate Fatima 
— weeping because her mistress wept — strove with 
all the arts of tenderness to soothe her. But the lady 
seemed even unconscious of her presence, and utterly 
abandoned to suffering. After an hour of convulsive 
emotion, she sprang suddenly to her feet, fixed her 
eye wildly upon the frightened slave, and said, with a 
grave but frenzied utterance : — 

" If Beauty should approach to be compared with 
him, she would hang down her head in shame. 

" Or if it were said, c O Beauty ! hast thou seen the 
like ? ' she would answer, ' The equal of this have I 
not seen.' 

" Beholding his graceful form and lovely aspect, she 
would exclaim, ' Extolled be the perfection of Him 
who created thee, a temptation to all ! ' 

" She would cease not to gaze at him, and say, 
' This is not a mortal : this is no other than a noble 
angel' " * 

* When Zeleekah, the wife of Potiphar, invited her female friends 
that they might behold Yoo-seef (Joseph), and excuse her for inclining 



44 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Then looking fixedly, as if at some absorbing ob- 
ject, she sank into a long and quiet swoon. 

***** 

Timour, the Bashaw of Nalbritz, was enjoying his 
afternoon repose in his " mandar'ah," or room of re- 
ception, when Ibn Ali and Smith presented them- 
selves before him. The latter wore a Turkish cos- 
tume of respectable materials, and bore no insignia of 
servitude. His person and address, as already signi- 
fied, were those of a gentleman deserving of consid- 
eration. 

" The lady Tragabigzanda, my lord," said the slave, 
according to his instructions, " hath sent me to con- 
duct to thy presence this honorable traveller. She 
adds her greetings and love." So saying, he retired. 

The Bashaw, a man of prepossessing appearance, 
received his guest with the indolent but stately cour- 
tesy so peculiar to the Turk, and motioned him, with 
the usual salutation, to a seat upon the divan. Smith 
returned his salutation as well as he was able, for he 
had striven diligently during his captivity to acquire 
the Turkish language. 

Water, coffee, and the chibook were introduced, ac- 
cording to Turkish custom. These preliminary rites 
of hospitality concluded, conversation was tolerably 
sustained. Smith had already produced the letter of 
the lady Charatza, which was retained unopened by 
the ceremonious Turk. 

After the expiration of an hour or more, during 



unto him, at the sight of him they cut their hands, and praised God, 
ejaculating these words : " This is not a mortal," &c. — Koran, ch. xii. 
v. 31. 



SELF-EMANCIPATION. 45 

which the host had taken an opportunity to read his 
sister's letter, he proposed, with a shade more than his 
previous gravity, that his guest should accompany 
him to his plantation, where business required his 
presence. Always ready for active motion, Smith 
gladly acquiesced ; and they were soon galloping over 
the ground, attended by half a score of armed slaves. 
After riding about a league, they arrived at a farm- 
house, at which they alighted. Scarcely had our 
young officer touched foot upon the ground, when he 
was suddenly pinioned and disarmed. Turning in 
amazement to ask explanation, he found the cour- 
teous Turk transformed into a Fury ; his eyes glared 
with rage ; his whole countenance expressed intense 
passion ; and, with violent gestures, he vociferated 
alternately to his prisoner and his slaves. Such was 
his volubility, that Smith could distinguish but few 
words, — " Christian dog ! " " Carrion-vulture mate the 
dove ! " and like phrases. But he plainly heard, for 
the Bashaw then spoke with ominous deliberation, 
" By Allah ! yes ; i" '// teach thee the Turkish tongue 
and Turkish manners, too, son of perdition ! " 

Smith had no opportunity to remonstrate, nor 
power to resist. Exhausted by his fury, the tyrant 
entered the house, when Smith was instantly stripped, 
and reclad with a shirt of hair-cloth, over which were 
drawn garments of undressed skins. His head and 
face were then shaved " so bare as my hand," to quote 
his own -words ; an iron collar was riveted upon his 
neck ; and he was sent to the tasks of hard labor in 
the field. He was a man of nerve and sound sense ; 
he therefore yielded at once, and without despair, to 
his hard and sudden fate. But his thoughts flew to 



46 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Constantinople ; to his gentle captivity there ; and to 
his lovely, noble-minded mistress. Not for a mo- 
ment, however, did he indulge the suspicion that she 
might be privy to his wrong. 

Until the Bashaw had read his sister's letter, he had 
not dreamed that Smith was her slave. But, in all 
guileless simplicity and sisterly trust, she had revealed 
that she was the mistress of his person, and even that 
he was the master of her heart. These disclosures — 
respecting a detestable Christian, too — were more 
than enough to overcome that very pliant and vapory 
virtue called brotherly sympathy or affection. His 
rage was terrific ; how it was cooled, the sequel will 
show. He returned to his home without again vexing 
his soul by a sight of his victim. 

It is not necessary" to journalize the bitter allotments 
of our hero ; a few facts are sufficient. He was but 
one among hundreds of slaves, and, being the last- 
comer, was the slave of his predecessors ; yet, to 
quote him again, " there was no great choice, for the 
best was so bad that a dog could hardly have lived 
to endure." But John Smith was not the man to 
sink amid billows. For a time he anticipated that 
the lady Charatza might dissolve his bonds. But the 
conviction was soon forced upon him, that the malice 
of his tyrant had effectually prevented her interference. 
Finding that some of his fellow-slaves were Chris- 
tians, he urged them to concert measures for freedom ; 
but their spirits had been hopelessly broken. In bitter- 
ness and abjectness of soul, they only longed for the 
last, the fatal drop in the cup of their misery. 

No taunts, insults, or cruelties could glut the malice 
of the Bashaw. With his own tongue, and hands, 



SELF-EMANCIPATION. 47 

and feet, with whip and cudgel, he belabored the 
young officer whenever he found him at his tasks. 
Smith bore all with magnanimity, and with as much 
show of heroism as he could ; for the tyrant was al- 
ways well armed and accompanied. But there is 
a point beyond which the best protected tyrant is 
unsafe ; a last drop which makes the cup of endur- 
ance overflow ; a last pound which breaks the camel's 
back. 

Smith had not bated a particle of his soldierly dar- 
ing ; it was only held in masterly check by his good 
sense. He could endure in passive silence, when his 
judgment told him that resistance or resentment would 
be unavailing or worse. He now waited his time. It 
came. Upon a certain day, his tormentor was indulg- 
ing in his usual cruelties, in a remote threshing-floor 
where Smith was at work. It was his last hour of 
grace. The young soldier's blood was up. Like the 
Hebrew deliverer, " he looked this way and that way, 
and when he saw that there was no man," he felled 
the brute with his flail, dashed out his brains, and hid 
him in the straw. Quickly clothing himself in the 
rich garments of the Turk, and securing in a bag a 
quantity of grain, he leaped upon the tyrant's horse, 
and dashed away at random. 

But the iron ring upon his neck was a badge fatal 
to his escape if observed. It was his first necessity, 
therefore, to shun every one. Three days he strag- 
gled without a clew to his proper course, — startled 
by every sound or sight which to his apprehensive 
mind betokened the approach of a human being. He 
had begun to despair, when suddenly he found him- 
self on a way-side before a Christian cross, — the mute 



48 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

but inspiring emblem of " deliverance to the captives." 
To him it was doubly an object of joy, — as a relig- 
ious monument it quickened his drooping confidence 
in God, and it was a sure guide to a city of refuge. 
It was a mark, common in that part of the world, to 
indicate the route to a Christian country. Smith 
knew this, and of course how to direct his course. 

At the end of sixteen days he arrived safely at 
Ecopolis, a garrison of the Russians on the river 
Don. Here his badge of slavery was a passport to 
protection, hospitality, and every lavish charity which 
Christians on the frontier, and themselves constantly 
exposed to captivity, could bestow. To use his own 
words, " he thought himself new risen from death," 
so kindly was he treated. Under an escort, he took 
his way to Transylvania, where he " was glutted with 
content and neere drowned with joy," in the welcome 
and embraces of Meldritch and his surviving compan- 
ions in arms, by whom more than a year he had been 
numbered with the dead. This was in December, 
1603. Here Prince Sigismund confirmed by a di- 
ploma, dated December 9th, the title of nobility which 
he had previously conferred upon him, and gave him 
a purse of fifteen hundred ducats to repair his losses.* 

From these kindest of friends he tore himself away, 
only for his longing " to see and rejoyce himselfe 
(after all these encounters) in his own sweete coun- 
trye." 

* Simms, 86. Hillard, 203; where 15 ducats is doubtless a typo- 
graphical error for 1500 ducats. Smith's patent of nobility was admitted 
and recorded in the Heralds' College in England, August 19th, 1625. 
His coat of arms was a shield bearing " the figure and description of 
three Turks' heads," with the motto, Vincere est vivere. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE PIONEERS. 

On the 26th day of April, 1607, three vessels bear- 
ing the flag of England — the largest not exceeding 
one hundred tons burden — were making their way 
into the capacious mouth of the " Mother of Waters," 
the Chesapeake. They had just weathered, under 
bare poles, a violent gale from the south ; and though 
they now carried light sail, they yet labored in a sea 
fretting in resentment of the storm. At daylight, the 
southern headland of the bay, Cape Henry, had ap- 
peared in sight ; so named by those on board, in 
honor of the Prince of Wales. 

A magnificent forest enwrapped the virgin bosom 
of the country, veiling her charms in a boundless 
mantle of verdure. With its alternate elevations 
and depressions, it seemed like a vast sea of foliage, 
but without wrath and without fluctuation. Every- 
thing within the circuit of the landscape was placid 
and teeming beneath the vernal sun, and seemed 
waiting to welcome the strangers with anthems of 
praise to God. Yet there were lurking foes there, in 
the dark and silent thicket. The seeds of transgres- 
sion, and the consequent edict of the Almighty, had 
reached this seeming Paradise long before, and a new 
generation of woes lay enwombed there, ripe for the 
birth. The new-comers, reckless as most of them 
5 



50 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

were of God's glory in the works of his hands, gazed 
with silent and subdued admiration upon such en- 
chanting beauty and voiceless grandeur. More than 
twenty years before (1584), this yet undefined Vir- 
ginia had been discovered and skirted by British 
ships, and settlements had been attempted ; but none 
now approaching its shores had beheld them before. 

Their anchors were soon dropped within the cape, 
and a boat was sent ashore with thirty men. A hand- 
ful of skulking natives attacked them, — an omen of 
the future, — but were easily put to flight by fire-arms. 
On the other hand, Nature gave them a welcome full 
of promise. As she had just arrayed herself in her 
best robes, and put on her floral adornments, she 
received them with smiles in her groves of goodly 
cedar and cypress. She wooed them with her fra- 
grant odors and freshest flowers. She guided them 
to a secluded glade, — a little banquet-room, carpeted 
with living green, dappled and scented with straw- 
berries four times larger than they had ever seen. And 
then she led them to her clear, shallow streams, with 
their bottoms paved with oysters, and showed them 
the pearls which she had shaped and treasured there. 

One of the party was George Percy, brother of the 
Earl of Northumberland, who has left us an account 
of this reception. There was Bartholomew Gosnold, 
too, the projector of the present enterprise, and who 
five years before had explored the coast from Mas- 
sachusetts Bay to Martha's Vineyard. Christopher 
Newport, to whom had been intrusted the command 
of the little squadron, was also of the party. They 
returned on board elated by what they had seen. 

In the evening Captain Newport assembled the 



THE PIONEERS. 51 

principal men of the expedition in the cabin of his 
vessel. A small sealed casket lay upon the table be- 
fore him, evidently an object of special interest to all 
present. He addressed them in substance as fol- 
lows : — 

" Gentlemen, we have reason to congratulate our- 
selves that we did not yield to the despondency of a 
few days since, and shape our course back to Eng- 
land. After a voyage of more than eighteen weeks, 
although we have failed to find the island of Roanoke, 
we have every prospect of effecting a speedy and pros- 
perous settlement. The time has now come, desig- 
nated by his Majesty for opening the royal instruc- 
tions, and ascertaining the names of those in whom 
our colonial government is vested." 

With much solemnity the seal of the casket was 
broken, and it was found that the Council to whom 
the government was intrusted were Edward Maria 
Wingfield, Bartholomew Gosnold, John Smith, Chris- 
topher Newport, John Radcliffe, John Martin, and 
George Kendall. 

There was a man on board in confinement and 
bonds. He had been kept so during thirteen weeks. 
This was Captain John Smith, who, after parting 
from his friends in Transylvania, and sharing in a 
protracted and desperate sea-fight, had arrived in 
England in 1604, formed an intimacy with Gosnold, 
a kindred spirit, and embarked with him and one 
hundred and three others to plant an English settle- 
ment in the very uncertain territory then called Vir- 
ginia.* On the voyage dissensions and jealousies had 

* These emigrants went out under " The London Company," an as- 



52 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

arisen, — to us involved in some mystery. Most of 
the adventurers were men of desperate fortunes and 
petty ambition. The superiority of Smith as a man 
of energy and daring was not only a matter of fame, 
but was unequivocally indicated in his person. Prob- 
ably jealousy of his ability had rendered him ob- 
noxious to the more aspiring and conceited among 
the colonists ; for his high reputation and frank, 
manly bearing had made him a favorite with the 
majority. Be this as it may, but about five weeks 
of their voyage, by the old route of the Canaries and 
West Indies, had elapsed, when he was put in con- 
finement on the absurd charge of having arranged a 

sociation chartered by the king, and having no other aim than mercan- 
tile profit. 

The charter gave to the Company exclusive right to occupy, plant, 
and trade between the thirty-fourth and thirty-eighth parallels of north 
latitude. 

The general control of their affairs was in the hands of a Superior 
Council in England, members of the Company, but appointed and re- 
movable by the king. 

The internal administration of the colony Avas in a Colonial Council, 
resident there, but to be elected or removed by the king, and at all 
times and in all respects to be themselves governed as the royal caprice 
might dictate. They were to elect from their own number their Presi- 
dent or thief magistrate, and might depose him, and also fill their own 
vacancies. They might make any laws not touching life or limb, and, 
upon conviction by jury, might punish certain specified crimes by death. 

The crown was to receive certain proportions of all gold, silver, and 
copper which the country might yield. 

Thus the emigrants themselves — while in the colony — had no voice 
or influence in the government. They were merely the machinery of 
the Company, dependent upon its providence and pleasure, and open to 
its oppression. 

The magnificent whim of concealing in a sealed box the name of the 
Colonial Council until the expedition should arrive in Virginia left the 
emigrants, in the interim, without an authorized head. Hence, natu- 
rally, their dissensions on the voyage. 



THE PIONEERS. 53 

conspiracy "to murder the Council, usurp the gov- 
ernment, and make himself king of Virginia." In 
this condition he had continued up to the present 
time. 

Seventeen days were now occupied in exploring 
the neighborhood, during which time they received 
welcome and bounteous hospitalities from two small 
tribes of the natives, and smoked the pipe of peace 
with their chiefs. At length, having ascended the 
river Powhattan, — by them named James River, — 
they selected the site of their residence on its north 
side, and about fifty miles from its mouth. It was 
on the 13th of May that they first " lifted up axes 
upon the thick trees," and called their embryo city 
Jamestown, in honor of their monarch. 

The suffrages of the Council were now given for 
their President, and Wingfield was elected. Smith 
was excluded from their body, on the ground of the 
charges already mentioned. But as every strong arm 
was needed to prosecute indispensable labor, he was 
released from his bonds. With true magnanimity, 
he entered into the spirit of the enterprise, and shared 
its toils, proudly silent about his wrongs. 

The colonists, for the most part, were little adapted 
to the arduous work of pioneer settlers of a wilder- 
ness. Out of one hundred and five — their whole 
number — there were only twelve laborers and a few 
mechanics. The rest were styled " gentlemen," i. e. 
men unaccustomed to labor, " of dissolute habits," 
adventurers, hoping for some chance to repair wasted 
fortunes, and " some few of the greatest ranke little 
better than atheists." Notwithstanding, the beauti- 
ful peninsula — an island at high tide — which they 



54 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

had chosen for their home was for the present a scene 
of bustling activity. The sound of the axe, the ham- 
mer, and the saw, the falling of trees, and the shouts 
of excited men, broke up the old silence of nature ; 
and the sun looked boldly down upon a soil hitherto 
veiled in shadows. Tents and cabins were erected ; 
apparatus for snaring fish and game was constructed ; 
spots were laid out for gardens ; clapboards were 
wrought for the lading of the vessels ; and a fort 
was planned. But Wingfield forbade the erection 
of defensive works, other than a barrier of boughs, — 
fit fuel for an Indian firebrand. When these prepara- 
tory works had tolerably advanced, Captain Newport, 
Captain Smith, and twenty others, were ordered to 
explore the river above.* 

About one hundred miles above the seedling city 
was an elevated opening in the forest, with the river — 
about half a mile in width — flowing at its base on the 
south. To this point the tide brought up the waters 
of the sea. Above, for the distance of six miles, the 
river was a succession of rapids or cascades ; and in 
front of the unwooded spot which we have designated, 
it was studded with luxuriant islands. Upon the 
rear margin of this natural glade, and half shaded 
by the forest, stood a dozen native huts at irregular 
intervals. One of these, somewhat distinguished by 

* The London Company ordered the colonists to seek a passage 
through the interior to the South Seas, i. e. the East Indies. Tliey 
•svere to do this by exploring every considerable stream flowing from the 
west or northwest. A roguish Indian in 1586 had told the English 
wondrous tales of gold at the head-waters of the Roanoke Eiver, and 
that its source was so near the western ocean that the salt water would 
sometimes dash over into the clear fountains of the stream. These fables 
still influenced the London Company. 



THE PIONEERS. 55 

its form and materials, was the dwelling of the Indian 
chief Powhattan. He was lord of all the country be- 
tween this river, including its southern branches, and 
the Potomac, and from the sea to the falls of the 
principal rivers. Of some of the tribes within this 
circuit he was chief by birth ; of others, by conquest. 
Over all of them — some thirty in number — he main- 
tained absolute authority. His regality, rough-hewn 
as it was, was substantial ; and his nobility, though 
not blazoned on parchment, was real, because intel- 
lectual. He had achieved dominion over other minds 
which had been born to rule ; and he still held it, a 
chief of chiefs, by means of his natural greatness. 

Powhattan was pacing the turf before the entrance 
of his lodge, absorbed in thought. Nothing in his 
personal equipment indicated warlike intentions ; yet 
his noiseless tread, his deliberate movement, and, 
occasionally, a listening attitude, betrayed that he 
was on the alert. He seemed to be alone ; but there 
were keen eyes and strong arms at hand, jealous for 
his safety. He knew that white men had entered his 
domain and were hewing down his forest. His sa- 
gacity and jealousy were roused ; and, as he thought 
of the future, he frowned. While listening to the 
sound of the Rapids, his eye was occasionally di- 
rected, with a look of expectation, along the stream 
below. Suddenly he stopped, the snapping of a twig 
in the forest caught his ear, and the next instant a 
young Indian bounded across the glade and stood, 
panting and silent, before him. Without changing 
his posture or aspect, the chief quietly demanded : 
" Has the Young Deer snuffed the scent of the pan- 
ther ? " 



56 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" The canoe of the white man rests upon the bank. 
He is coming through the forest to do reverence to 
Powhattan." 

A grim, sarcastic movement flitted upon the fea- 
tures of the chief as he replied : " It is well ; we will 
receive him." 

He had hardly spoken when there glided from 
among the trees, and from various directions, one 
swarthy form after another, until no less than forty 
armed and stalwart warriors, roused by the footstep 
of the runner, were ranged beside their prince ; while 
others stood aloof, partly concealed in the edge of the 
forest. The first were his body-guard, always in 
attendance ; the others his more humble subjects. 

In a short time Newport and Smith came in sight, 
preceded by an Indian guide, and attended by a dozen 
of their own men well armed. It was the sixth day 
of their excursion. Powhattan advanced a few steps 
upon the greensward, and awaited in silent dignity 
their approach. Whatever may have been his sensa- 
tions and misgivings as he saw the glittering weapons 
and strange array of his visitors, it was with no small 
admiration that they beheld this primitive lord of the 
soil. Tall, muscular, erect, of a stern countenance, 
his eye brilliant and piercing, his straight black hair 
slightly frosted by the winters of sixty years, and his 
frame of faultless proportions, he stood before them 
almost in a state of nature, but with a majestic and 
haughty port which showed them at a glance that he 
was born to be obeyed. 

He received his visitors with dignified courtesy and 
kindness, conducted them to his dwelling, and per- 
formed all the ceremonials of hospitality with princely 



THE PIONEERS. 57 

grace and cordiality. Signs were necessarily substi- 
tuted for words ; yet that both visit and reception 
were in token of friendship and respect, was suffi- 
ciently understood. The monarch of the woods 
spread before his guests a bounteous repast of hom- 
iny, game, fish, strawberries, mulberries, &c. ; and the 
pipe of peace was smoked. The strangers distributed 
little bells, beads, pins, and other trinkets, which were 
valued by the grave warriors above price. Captain 
Newport presented a hatchet to Powhattan, which he 
gratefully accepted, instantly comprehending its prac- 
tical value. The interview was necessarily short, and 
was terminated with every sign of mutual deference 
and good-will. 

In natural genius, in far-sighted penetration, and in 
all the characteristics of an untutored warrior, Pow- 
hattan strongly resembled the unfortunate Caonabo, 
the Hispaniolan prince, the captive of Columbus. 
Like him, he foresaw evil to his people from the 
coming of the strangers, and knew that it must be 
crushed in the bud if at all ; but, unlike him, he saw 
that in such an enterprise he could not hope to suc- 
ceed by bold and open contest, and from the first he 
adopted the policy of craft and hypocrisy. He there- 
fore disguised his real enmity, and even to his own 
warriors, who murmurred at the intrusion of the 
strangers, he coolly said, " They want but a little 
land.'' 

" A very friendly set, after all," said Newport, when 
they had at length arrived within twenty miles of 
Jamestown. li Civil, hospitable, kind, from the first 
day to this ; from Jamestown to the falls ; from strip- 
ling to king. Yet I should not like to ramble among 



58 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the infernal-looking fellows without sword and fire- 
lock." 

" Very friendly and very infernal," replied Smith 
coolly. 

" Ha ! what do you mean ? " for there was more 
significance in Smith's tone than in his words. 

" I did but echo your own words, Captain New- 
port." 

" True ; but — but have you seen anything amiss ? 
Captain Smith, you have been among devils before, 
and know something of their ways. Have you seen 
anything suspicious ? " 

" Enough, all along our route, and enough but just 
now." 

« What ? " 

" Straws." 

" Straws ! " 

" Trifles show the wind, Captain Newport." 

The commander manifested some chagrin at Smith's 
evident reserve, though he forbore further questioning. 
He had never lost the terrific impression made upon 
his mind, when, about thirty miles above Jamestown, 
they had suddenly found " all the woods round about 
filled with begrimmed savages shouting, yelling, and 
crying as so many spirits in hell could not have 
showed more terrible." Though they had offered no 
harm, and though the conduct of all with whom the 
travellers had come in contact had exceeded in kind- 
ness, yet the remembrance of the first alarm clung to 
Newport like his shadow. 

Smith, perceiving that he was growing uncomforta- 
bly nervous, soon said to him aside : " Captain New- 
port, I have no disposition to conceal from you what 



THE PIONEERS. 59 

I mean ; but it would be unwise to disturb our men. 
I think we had better hasten to Jamestown. The 
Indians are not as friendly as they seem." 
" But I ask again, what have you seen ? " 
" "Wherever we have landed, through all their feast- 
ing and merry-making, they have watched us-with less 
of curiosity than of jealousy and hatred. Tall fellows, 
with sharp eyes and scowling brows, have held sly 
conference about us in the bushes, and have sent off 
runners at various points, while others have been 
entertaining us. Powhattan's attendants bear us 
malice ; and in the chief himself I could detect 
signs of a feeling no better. He thinks he has duped 
us, and means to play his game until we English are 
all off our guard, and he can strike to purpose. Thus 
I read him and his people." 

" But what did you see at his dwelling ? " 
" Men's faces, Captain Newport, that is all. But 
in men's faces are words. They can be seen and 
read ; but he who reads cannot repeat them in any 
language under heaven." 

" I confess I saw none of these things." 



" Nothing when we set up the cross ? 



? » 



" Nothing." 



" Captain Newport, I have great reverence for the 
cross ; not because it is a cross, but because it tells 
me of the One Crucified and his redemption. In 
the wilderness especially, it is a very dear object to 
me, for it once raised me from despair and guided me 
to deliverance in the steppes of Tartary. But I do 
not like to see it here. It does no good, and excites 
in the Indians surmises of evil." 

" The fellows do not know its meaning." 



60 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" And therefore regard it with suspicion, Captain 
Newport. I saw many evil looks when it was raised, 
and am much mistaken if the fact was not reported 
to Powhattan within half an hour, and with very bad 
comments." 

" You spoke of hastening our return. Do you 
expect an attack ? " 

" It is not improbable ; yet arrows are playthings 
against corselets and fire-arms. That something is in 
the wind, I am confident. I fear for our friends at 
Jamestown." 

" But they have armor and arms as well as we." 

" Where ? In the men's hands ? By their sides ? 
No ; in the custody of our President, for reasons of 
his own." 

After musing a while, Newport exclaimed : " So be 
it ; for home then, and at once " ; and their boat did 
not touch the shore until at the settlement. 

Smith's sagacity was not at fault. On his arrival 
he found seventeen of the colonists in the hands of 
the surgeons, and one of the two lads who belonged 
to the expedition in his grave. They had been at- 
tacked by stealth, when dispersed, unsuspicious, and 
without arms, by apparently four hundred Indians. 
The issue would doubtless have been the destruction 
of the whole, had not a shot from one of the vessels 
crashing through the trees so frightened the savages 
that they fled. 

The President's eyes were opened. The projected 
fort was now properly constructed, and furnished with 
cannon, arms were put into the hands of the men, and 
regular military exercises were established. It was 
well. The savages, finding that the thunderbolts of 



THE PIONEERS. 61 

the whites did not follow them, soon resumed then- 
attacks. " Wearisome days and nights were now ap- 
pointed unto " the colonists. No one dared to stray- 
beyond the protection of the garrison. They wrought 
at their labor with a guard. They slept uneasily, 
although surrounded by sentries. 

***** 

" I stand upon my rights as an Englishman, and 
demand a trial." 

Such were the words of Smith as he stood before 
the Council, and was told by the President to return 
to England with Newport, and receive judgment from 
the Superior Council, to whom his case would be 
referred. 

Wingfield was disconcerted by the demand, but 
replied, with tolerable composure : " We would spare 
you the risk, Captain Smith." 

" Spare me ! From what risk ? I ask no favor, 
sir." 

" From the risk of blasting your reputation and 
forfeiting your life." 

" My reputation is in the keeping of mine integrity, 
and my life is nothing without both. I demand a 
public trial, — here, where the witnesses are, and not 
where they are not." 

" We should be sorry to produce proofs which 
should convict you of treason." 

" Let the Council produce them. A traitor should 
be hung, not shielded. You have excluded me from 
your body, for which I care not a groat. But I will 
not be re-consigned to a parcel of merchants, like a 
bale of bad goods." 

Wingfield, himself a wealthy merchant, who had 



62 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

joined the expedition from the most sordid motives, 
replied sharply, " We shall act our own pleasure in 
your case, Captain Smith"; and instantly adjourned 
the Council. He had been Smith's first and chief 
accuser, and had reasons of his own for preventing an 
open trial. 

The proposition of the President was soon known 
to all the colonists, and produced no small commo- 
tion. His honest zeal in their enterprise, the proud 
equanimity with which he had borne confinement, 
the noble spirit with which he had labored since his 
release, as well as the knowledge of his previous 
history, had secured to Smith not only the respect, 
but the admiration, and even affection, of nearly all 
the colonists. He now used no arts to excite their 
sympathy, but contented himself with simply saying, 
" I have demanded a trial." 

" The fellow is insolent and dangerous," said 
"Wingfield at the re-assembling of the Council. " A 
trial makes it possible that he may remain, in which 
case he will prove a sorry mischief-maker. In Eng- 
land he would be out of the way." 

" Let him have a fair and open trial," said Gosnold. 
" It is his right. For myself, I differ from our Presi- 
dent ; my convictions force me to. The man is hon- 
orable. Conspiracy is beneath him. If he would do 
mischief, he would do it openly, boldly ; not like a 
creeping savage, or a snake in the grass. Sift his 
case by a fair trial. He will stand the test." 

The President moved nervously in his chair, and 
called for Newport's opinion. 

" I cannot see sufficient reason for disliking his 
presence here. He seems single-eyed to the good of 



THE PIONEERS. 63 

the colony, and is brave enough to be of service. I 
favor his demand." 

" O, send him off, send him off," drawled John 
Radcliffe. " He makes trouble, and perhaps means 
to be king after all." 

Martin and Kendall alluded to the murmurings of 
the people, and with much force, urging that to refuse 
a trial, and to a man so popular, might lead to incon- 
ceivable embarrassments. 

Wingfield was constrained to yield, though with an 
ill grace. The trial took place. Upon thorough in- 
vestigation, it appeared that those who had before 
testified that Smith purposed to usurp kingly power 
by means of assassination, had been instigated to do 
so, and that their instigators had been actuated by 
pure malice. In the end Smith was acquitted ; the 
tables were turned ; and Wingfield, as the prime 
mover of the libel, was adjudged to pay two hundred 
pounds to the man whom he had wantonly wronged! 
Smith was now restored to his seat in the Council, 
and generously threw the effects of Wingfield, which 
were awarded him, into the common treasury. Thus 
did the schemes of an " unscrupulous and narrow- 
minded" man recoil upon himself.* 

On the following day peace was made with the 
Indians, at their own solicitation ; and on the 15th of 
June, Captain Newport sailed for England, leaving 
one hundred colonists in possession of stores and a 
pinnace, and with a prospect of prosperity and tran- 
quillity. 



* Smith, 43. Stith, 47. Burk, I. 101. Yet Bancroft says : " The 
attempt at his trial was ahandoned." 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE BRUISED REED. — THE EXECUTION. 

The scorching rays of a July sun beat with full 
power upon the little clearing at Jamestown. The 
noise of labor had ceased, and the hum of voices ; in 
short, every sound of life. The pinnace lay moored 
to the trees, and rocking lazily and untended on the 
water. The tents were rotten and tattered. The 
cabins were tottering and half unroofed. The gardens 
were choked with weeds, and the ramparts of the fort 
were deserted. A row of mounds in a distant corner, 
freshly turned up and covered with turf, had the ap- 
pearance of newly made graves. 

There were but two signs of life in the open space, 
— a carrion crow upon a tall pine, and an emaciated 
man sitting languidly upon the ground. They were 
eying each other ! The pine swayed and creaked ; 
the bird took wing and croaked. 

"Your throat is an open sepulchre!" exclaimed 
the man, with some energy. " Curse the bird ! " And 
he clenched his bony hand, and ground his teeth, and 
cursed Virginia, and cursed the day of his birth, and 
cursed God. It was dreadful, with death at his 
elbow, as it were ! Suddenly another mood came 
over him. The lines of passion faded from his face, 
a thoughtful, pensive shade settled upon his pale 



THE BRUISED REED. 65 

brow, tears stood in his eyes, he reached forward as if 
he would embrace something which he loved. 

" O England! happy England! Great God, if I 
could go home to die ! It is a wicked son ; yet, for 
one more prayer, mother ! one blessing, one kiss, I 'd 
be glad to die. But — dying like a dog — here — 
here — O God ! O God ! " The wretched man gave 
way to sobs. 

It was a little past noon. He had tottered a few 
steps from his miserable shelter, bending under the 
weight of a musket and a little, half-filled bag, — a 
burden which a hale child might have carried, — but 
had stopped to rest on his journey of twenty yards. 
His object was to reach a large iron kettle suspend- 
ed beneath an awning upon a framework of poles, 
and over some smouldering embers. He now dashed 
away his tears, as if angry with himself, took up his 
burden, and nerved himself to his task. Having 
quickened the fire, he emptied the bag into the cal- 
dron, which had been supplied with water, and was 
soon busily engaged in watching and stirring the mix- 
ture. 

" Ten men as stout as I, and ten half-pints of bar- 
ley and ditto of wheat a day ! " he muttered. " Large 
rations ! Bah ! " seeing the worms floating from the 
grain upon the surface. " Never mind, Joe Price ; 
call it game." 

A half-dozen armed men now came up from the 
river, also much emaciated, though they seemed strong- 
er than poor Joe Price. Some crabs which they had 
gathered were cooked, and, with the contents of the 
kettle, were carried into the hut. Here the men met 
three others of like appearance ; and the whole party 

6* 



66 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ravenously, and in solemn silence, devoured their 
wretched meal. It was eked out, however, with a 
few scraps- of bread made of spoiled wheat. They 
were the only ten men in Jamestown who were able 
to stand. 

They had hardly gleaned the last morsels of their 
ration, when outcries of distress were heard from the 
huts near by. The sick were impatient for their 
nurses, whose names they now called in the most 
plaintive tones. A shriek, a moan, a sobbing and in- 
coherent prayer, a delirious laugh, a roaring blasphe- 
my, — to all these fearful sounds the men listened ; 
and they shuddered. 

u I 've been cursing, and praying too, within an 
hour," exclaimed Price ; " but I can't stand this." 
And he covered his ears with his hands. 

" Good God ! " cried one, starting to his feet, " are 
thy mercies clean gone ? What days ! What nights ' 
What howlings ! What piteous faces ! " 

" I thought you was pious, Stevens ! " said a com- 
rade, with a sneer. 

" Pious ! " echoed Stevens, in a grave tone. " If 
you mean — what do you mean by pious ? " 

u One of Parson Hunt's babies, a' n't you ? " * 

" If you mean, thinking one's self good, or better 
than his neighbor, I say No, William Lee. If you 
mean, content with God's doings, and glad that he 



* The Kev. Mr. Hunt was a clergyman of the Church of England 
who came out with the colonists. He was a man of apostolic spirit, un- 
obtrusive, humble, never interfering with the colonists, except to make 
peace, — in which he was often successful, — to administer the ordinances 
of the Gospel, and to commend the life and priesthood of his Divine 
Master. He never returned ; but how long he lived is not known. 



THE BRUISED REED. 67 

manages all things, I say Yes. If I spoke peevishly- 
just now, may He forgive me ! But these sights and 
sounds are terrible, here in this wild, wild forest. 
Come, lads ; they cry for us. If we cannot save, we 
can comfort them. Come ! " 

Such was the condition of Jamestown about a fort- 
night after the departure of Newport. Food spoiled 
in the holds of the vessels, a summer heat unknown 
in England, miserable shelters, labor and exposure 
to which they had been unaccustomed, and poison- 
ous vapors from a rank and humid soil, had wrought 
dreadfully upon the exiles. 

Early on the 22d morning of August, two men 
leaned for a moment upon their spades as they fin- 
ished their work in the little spot set apart for the 
dead. Counting from the grave of the boy slain by 
the Indians to the four just completed but unoccu- 
pied, there were now more than forty. 

" Four in one night!" exclaimed one of the grave- 
diggers, in a depressed tone, and they dropped their 
spades and threw themselves exhausted upon the 
ground. 

u Four out of misery, Price ; think of that." 

" ' Misery,' William Lee ! I saw something else 
last night." 

" Did you ? " said Lee, with a leer ; " some religion, 
hey?" 

" I saw Stevens die." 

" Snivelling about his sins." 

" Shame on you, Lee ! and on me too. For the 
matter of such mocking I 've done my share, God 
forgive me ! " 

" Now you 're thinking of your mammy, Price. 
Pity you was ever weaned." 



68 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" I say, I saw Stevens die. ' Snivelling,' man ! 
No ; nor glorying. There just lay all over his face 
such a quiet light like, I thought it a kind o' diction- 
ary definition of a verse I 've seen in the Bible." 

" In — deed ! What verse, pray ? " 

" ' Thou wilt keep in perfect peace him whose mind 
is stayed on Thee ' ; that 's it, I believe. And when- 
ever he wanted a drop o' water, he did not scowl and 
swear, but just give me a smile like. And then he 'd 
look in my face when he 'd wet his lips, and say with 
his eyes, — for he could not speak, poor fellow, — 
' God bless you, Joe ' ; just as plain ! The last time, 
though, he whispered." 

" What ? " 

" ' Lord Jesus, into thy — ' but he did n't finish. 
He just slipped his head softly like off my arm, — for 
I was holding him up a bit, — and kind o' dropped 
asleep just like a little child in its mother's lap. ' Sniv- 
elling,' Lee ! God grant you may see a Christian die 
before you do yourself." 

Lee rose with " Humph ! Come, man ; we must 
bury." But there was a strange " twitching like," as 
Price would have called it, of his eyelids, and about 
the muscles of his mouth. 

One, two, three, four, — among them the humble 
soldier Stevens, and the sole preserver of peace, hith- 
erto, in the Council, Gosnold, — were now dragged 
forth, and over the rough ground, by the shoulders, 
and laid coffinless in their graves. Price knelt upon 
the earth which covered Stevens, and wept. 

" Let me die the death of the righteous," he mur- 
mured, " and let my last end be like his ! " 

The burial for that morning was over. 



THE BRUISED REED. 69 

So went the nights, and so went the mornings, and 
so went the days, to September. The little row of 
graves had become longer and longer, — by ones, by 
twos, by threes, and sometimes by fours, — until fifty 
men slept there under the sod. 

During all this season of distress the President, 
Wingfield, kept aloof from the sufferers, avoiding 
also all exertion and all exposure to the sun. This 
might account for his exemption from sickness ; but 
it seemed strange that he showed no marks of suf- 
fering from bad and stinted food. The mystery was 
soon solved by the discovery that he had thriven in 
secret upon the choicest portions of the stores which 
he had villanously embezzled. Next, he was detect- 
ed in a plan with Kendall to embark secretly in the 
pinnace ; leaving to the Indian, to famine, and to 
fate, those not necessary to his escape. Both were 
expelled from the Council. 

Radcliffe became nominally President ; but the ir- 
resolute and indolent man imposed the labors and 
responsibilities of his office upon Smith, who, still 
tottering under the effects of terrible sickness, heroi- 
cally undertook the salvation of the colony. The men 
had abandoned themselves to a sullen despair, and 
would not move a muscle for their own relief. They 
only waited for the worst. Yet such were Smith's 
influence and tact, that he succeeded in rousing them 
to labor, by fellow-feeling, by cheering words, by gen- 
tle persuasion, by a little well-timed raillery, and — 
more than all — by example. He was the hardest 
worker on the ground. Under such impulse, the slov- 
enly settlement soon put on the aspect of order and 



70 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

neatness, and every man's dwelling was made com- 
fortable, with one exception, — Smith's. 

At length, even crabs and sturgeon disappeared, 
which had been their sole resource after the consump- 
tion of their worm-eaten grain. Famine seemed in- 
evitable ; for they had great reason to expect hostili- 
ties, rather than supplies, from the Indians. Yet, in 
this dark exigency, the savages proffered a temporary 
supply of corn in the way of traffic. Smith devoutly 
ascribed this to the special interposition of God. But 
more must be had ; and he girded himself to this task 
also. 

In a boat, he dropped down to a small bay on the 
river's northern shore and near its mouth, where he 
discovered and approached a village of the Indians. 
They met him with insult, returning courtesy with 
mockery, and making sport of his necessities. All 
his efforts at conciliation were in vain : tkey only pro- 
voked fresh derision. His patience was at length 
exhausted. 

" This will never do, my lads ! " he exclaimed to 
the half-dozen men who accompanied him. " We 
must have respect at least; and I mean to have 
more. Give the rascals a volley, but fire over their 
heads." 

No sooner was it given than the Indians fled to the 
woods. 

" Now, men, reload, and forward to their wig- 
wams." 

Here they found corn in profusion ; which his fam- 
ished men would have seized at once, had not then 
leader interfered. 

" Hold ! " said he ; " no stealing. I mean to have 



THE BRUISED REED. 71 

corn ; but I will have it honestly. Stand on your 
guard : the Philistines will be upon you in a trice." 

His conjecture was right. Sixty or seventy war- 
riors soon advanced from their cover in a solid column, 
armed with clubs, shields, bows and arrows, and hide- 
ously bedaubed with paints. Conspicuous in their 
front was an image of unearthly appearance, borne 
aloft, and bedizened with ornaments. 

" That dumb devil there is their war-god, I sup- 
pose," said Smith. " Robinson, I leave him to you. 
Be sure you bring him down when I give the word. 
Ready, men, — all. No boy's play this time. We 
can't help it ; they must have the balls." 

The Indians rushed on boldly, with the fiercest 
demonstrations. Smith gave the word " Fire ! " and a 
parcel of dusky bodies lay flouncing upon the ground, 
while the others scoured again for the woods. 

" Right, Robinson ! " said Smith ; " you 've dropped 
your game. First load, and then pick him up. Load 
all, my lads ! Never stir from your tracks with empty 
pieces." 

Robinson brought the idol, which was . placed con- 
spicuous and erect as a trophy. 

" Let us wait, now, for their movements, boys ! 
Those other devils are picking themselves up from 
the ground. How is it, Robinson ? Was this stuffed 
monster the only dead one there ? " 

" I think so, sir. I saw blood, but no one who 
was n't kicking." 

" So much the better. Whew ! what have we 
now ? " 

A fantastically dressed Indian was advancing alone 
from the thicket, unarmed, having none of the ap- 



72 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

pendages of a warrior, and making signs of abject 
submission. Smith beckoned him onward until they 
met. The Indian's distress was evidently for the 
captive idol ; but he was given to understand, partly 
by a few words which Smith had picked up, and 
partly by signs, that if six unarmed Indians would 
come and load the boat with corn, Smith would re- 
turn the god, pay for the corn, and be their friend. 
This was the end of all controversy. Corn, venison, 
turkeys, and other wild-fowl, were brought in abun- 
dance. The boat was laden; the idol returned; 
beads, small mirrors, and hatchets were given in pay- 
ment for the supplies ; the Indians were penitent and 
happy ; and their visitors departed in peace. 

As soon as this invaluable freight was landed at 
Jamestown, the settlers passed at a stride from death's 
door to riot. The food which God had brought to 
them in the wilderness was not only devoured with 
greed and thanklessness, but wasted with profane in- 
sanity. Smith, who was determined that the settle- 
ment should on no account be abandoned, devoted 
himself to feed the men whom he could not bring to 
reason. He therefore repeated his trading excur- 
sions with unwearied patience, — excursions which 
he wisely improved to acquire the language of the 
natives ; to study their character, habits, and super- 
stitions ; and to gain their respect by showing them, 
as he did, that he could move freely among them, 
by day or by night, without fear. In all these objects 
he succeeded. 

Returning from one of his missions some time in 
October, he found the colonists in unusual commotion. 
A gallows explained the mystery. One of the car- 



THE EXECUTION. 73 

penters had been reproved sharply by Radcliffe, the 
President, for disobedience of orders. He was a pas- 
sionate man, and Madeline's words had been stinging 
insults. The man had resented them by attacking t he- 
President with his tools, and attempting his life. Upon 
trial, a jury had found him guilty. He was condemned 
to be hung, and the sentence was now about to be 
executed. The people were assembled to witness the 
tragic scene ; and the culprit was even now advancing 
to his fate. The wretched man mounted the scaffold 
with an anxious look, and cast his eyes keenly over 
the little crowd. While the usual preliminaries were 
in progress, his countenance underwent very marked 
and singular changes ; betraying, alternately, boldness, 
terror, expectation, hope, doubt, and at last despair 
and rage. The executioner was ready, and there was 
a brief pause in the proceedings. The doomed man 
now made a startling revelation, addressed directly to 
Smith. 

" Captain Smith, I thank God that I see you here. 
I die justly, and make no defence. But you ought to 
know how it happens. You see, Captain, when you 
are away, things always goes wrong. The folks won't 
mind the President, because he has not spunk enough 
nor sense enough to make 'em. Now a few days ago 
we got into a row. Everything was heads and tails, 
— all higgledy-piggledy. We was just like a mob ; 
and all mad about something, and nobody knowed 
what, — except that we was all in Virgin ny. I swore 
out loud, not meaning just what I said, — but how- 
somever I swore I 'd be damned if I 'd stay in such a 
country. Upon which there comes a man to me, and 
says he, ' Jenkins,' says he, < you 're just about the . 
7 



74 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION, 



right sort of a chap'; and says J, 'I knows it.' 
' Well,' says he, ' are ye a mind to go off? ' ' Yes,' 
says I ; for I had n't got over my mad fit. ; Well,' 
says he, ' will ye keep mum ? ' ' Mum 's the word,' 
says I. And then he ups and tells me as how some 
o' the folks had put their heads together and agreed 
to streak it off with the pinnace ; and I agreed to go 
with them to be ship's carpenter. Well, Captain, I 
kept my secret ; but it made me kind o' uppish like ; 
and when the President — that 's Mr. Radcliffe — 
give me orders, I did n't mind, and answered his sarce 
by trying to kill him. May God forgive me ! So 
you see, Captain, 't was gettin' in with them fellows 
what made me do this ; and they knows it. Thinks 
I, they '11 see that I don't come to harm, if I keep 
close. An' now I 've waited up to this minute, hop- 
ing that they would n't leave a comrade in the lurch 
with a rope round his neck. Thinks I, they '11 rescue 
me somehow. But now you see, Captain, they don't 
do it. So I '11 just give my soul up to God in Jesus' 
name ; but I '11 be damned if I do,* without exposin' 
on 'em. And so now you have it, Captain Smith. 
That man Wingfield what was President, and what 
steals the best prog, and that t' other big taffeta f man, 
Captain Kendall, and about half a dozen others whom 
I need n't name, — them 's the chaps, Captain. You 'd 
best look arter 'em. And may God have mercy on 
my soul ! " 

* The force of habit sometimes makes strange work. " O God ! 
have mercy on me, a God-damned sinner ! " said a profane sea-captain, as 
he threw himself on his knees in his state-room, in an agony of mind 
about his godless life. It was his first penitential prayer. 

t Alluding to the silken jerkins by which the "gentlemen" colonists 
were distinguished. " Tuftaffeta," as used by Smith, seems to mean 
taffeta tufted, worn to shreds. See Simms, 129, note. 



THE EXECUTION. 75 

There was immediately a bustle and a movement. 
Smith and others disappeared from the scene, leaving 
the executioner to his duty. He promptly found Rad- 
cliffe, who seemed strangely apathetic about the con- 
spiracy ; but was willing that Smith should manage 
the affair as he chose, — for himself he could not be 
pothered. Word was soon brought that Wingfield, 
Kendall, and others, were astir, and had seized the 
pinnace. Smith gathered a few trusty men in the 
fort, and brought the guns to bear upon the pinnace. 

" Go," said he to a soldier, " and give those fellows 
warning. Tell them I '11 sink every soul of them 
where they are, if they float a foot from their moor- 
ings. They must surrender, or take the consequences. 
The consequences are in these guns." 

The conspirators knew the determined character of 
Smith, and surrendered. They were immediately 
tried by a jury ; and Kendall, as the ringleader, was 
condemned to be shot. Thus again did the Projector 
of empires interfere and save the colony.* 

This affair over, the indefatigable steward for hun- 
gry and wasteful men departed once more to gather 
stores, and extend his acquaintance with the natives. 
Again he returned, with a full freight of corn, pease, 
pumpkins, and fowl ; and again he was just in season 
to prevent the abandonment of Jamestown. He had 

* On the death of Captain Kendall, Campbell says (p. 13), " he was 
tried by a jury, and shot " ; and adds the following note : — " Newes from 
Virginia, p. 7. Hillard says, ' In the action Captain Kendall was slain ' ; 
being no doubt misled by the expression in Smith, ' which action cost 
the life of Captain Kendall.' By the word ' action ' here, Smith intended 
his conduct. Bancroft has fallen into the same mistake with Hillard." 
For the confession of the culprit, as given in the text, see Simms's Life 
of Smith, p. 127. 



76 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

all along been aware that a full stomach and good 
cheer were essential to an Englishman's content. 
Upon this conviction he had labored ; and to this 
point he now argued. He pointed to his abundant 
cargo, to the sudden appearance of myriads of fowl 
upon the water, of fat deer and other game daily 
coming nearer and nearer to them in the woods. The 
Englishmen saw, and were content. 

They were soon engrossed with the exciting sport 
of the forest, their tables were loaded with luxuries, 
and their faces glowed with good humor. Smith was 
freed from care and apprehension. 

Thus did the first permanent colony of British 
America totter through five months of its existence ; 
and thus for the present was it preserved. 



CHAPTER VII. 

POCAHONTAS. 

The Chickahominy is a stream which falls into 
James River on the north, about six miles above 
Jamestown. About the 1st of November, Captain 
Smith was exploring the forest at its sources, about 
seventy miles from its mouth, and attended by an 
Indian guide. Less than half an horn* previously he 
had landed from a canoe which he left in charge of 
two Englishmen, Robinson and Emry ; the barge 
in which he had left Jamestown having been stopped 
by shoals twenty miles below, and moored in a small 
bay or cove, in keeping of her crew, and at a safe dis- 
tance from either shore. The weather was very cold ; 
the wind had a sullen sound, the foliage a saddened 
hue, and the forest a repulsive gloom. But though 
the adventurous Englishman felt how Nature had 
changed her aspect since she greeted him with April 
smiles and beauties, yet he strode on with manly 
vigor and a soldier's fearlessness. 

Suddenly the woods rang with the savage war- 
whoop. As suddenly the guide was in the strong 
gripe of the Englishman, and in a few seconds was 
bound fast to his left arm. Smith wore garters ! 

" Now, you young rascal," said he, suspecting the 
savage of treachery, " if your friends shoot me, they 
shoot you." 

7* 



78 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

A spent arrow struck him on the thigh, and he 
discovered two Indians adjusting their bows. A shot 
from his gun put them to flight. He reloaded and 
stood on the watch ; the frightened guide, so adroitly 
converted into a shield, much questioning with him- 
self whether he were an Indian or a thing. 

" This way, my lad," said Smith, jerking his cap- 
tive to his front ; " there come your friends again." 

" And now this way," he added, stepping back- 
wards in the direction of the canoe. " It 's like 
English marriage, my friend, — until death do sepa- 
rate us." 

Now the woods were thronged, except in his rear, 
with painted and whooping savages. They were 
sorely puzzled by the odd contrivance of the white 
man for the protection of his body ; they were terri- 
bly afraid of coming within range of his musket, and 
they could not approach him from behind, as will 
soon appear. But notwithstanding their unwilling- 
ness to hurt the guide, they discharged several arrows 
from a distance ; and Smith managed to return mus- 
ket-ball, steadily retreating the while, and exhorting 
his trembling prisoner to tread in his steps. At last 
a voice in ambush called to him. 

" Well ! " he answered, still stepping backwards. 

" Let the white chief come to us, that we may not 
hurt him." 

" The white chief has business. He must hasten. 
He fears no hurt." Then, twitching his Indian, 
" Speed, friend, speed ! " 

" The white warrior's brothers on the river are 
dead," said the voice. 

" But the white warrior lives." 



POCAHONTAS. 79 

He discharged his musket, and its report was an- 
swered by a death-shriek. 

" The red man's blood for the white man's ! " he 
shouted, and reloaded. " Come, lad, come ! " 

" They were but women," was the answer. " The 
great warrior we would not harm. Let him give up 
his thunder-bearer, and come to the red man's lodge." 

" The great warrior is strong. He needs no rest " ; 
and, again catching sight of an Indian, he brought 
him to the ground. 

This singular conference was sustained more than 
half an hour; during which time some twenty or 
thirty arrows had been discharged, some of which 
had passed harmless through his clothes. Smith had 
slain three of his assailants, and wounded several 
others. It was a tragical farce, a laughable tragedy. 

There was a morass — or rather a shallow creek 
with a soft, muddy bottom — behind, which had pre- 
vented the Indians from surrounding him. Into this 
he suddenly stepped, sinking to his middle, and drag- 
ging his guide with him. The bottom, though in- 
sufficient for their support, was yet of sufficient firm- 
ness to hold them fast and helpless. The poor In- 
dian began to think of hunting-grounds in the skies. 

Smith retained his gun ; and his assailants, " the 
better part of valor." They dared not approach him. 
There were three hundred warriors hunting this one 
man. Curiosity urged forward the more remote in 
the throngs. The foremost, thus brought face to face 
with Smith, " trembled with fear." Finding himself 
perishing with cold, and held fast by the bog, he 
threw away his arms, and was drawn to firm ground, 
half frozen and a prisoner. 



80 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

He was now carried helpless to the spot where he 
had left his canoe, and where were the corpses of 
Robinson and Emry, riddled with arrows. The un- 
happy men had kindled a fire, beside which they had 
lain and slept, — never to wake. Before this fire 
Smith was carefully laid, and his limbs were rubbed 
vigorously by his captors, until, recovering warmth, 
he was able to stand and move. He was in the 
power of those who thought little of blood or death. 
He knew it ; and from the moment of his capture he 
considered his life lost. But he preserved his pres- 
ence of mind, and appeared coolly indifferent to his 
fate. 

" Who is your chief ? " he inquired. 

" Opechancanough." 

" The brother of your king, Powhattan ? " 

« His brother." 

" I would see him." 

Opechancanough soon appeared. He was a fine 
specimen of the Indian warrior ; of large stature, an 
imposing countenance, and a form admirably propor- 
tioned and developed. He approached his captive 
with the deference and courtesy due to a distin- 
guished guest, and with the natural dignity of a 
prince. Smith greeted him with quiet ease and 
respect, as if at a friendly interview. No allusion 
was made to the relation which had so suddenly 
sprung up between them. Seeing that the chief was 
attracted by a round ivory compass-dial which he 
carried by his side, Smith took occasion to explain 
it to him and to his principal warriors, as far as 
signs and his limited knowledge of their language 
would allow. They were much amused and puz- 



POCAHONTAS. 81 

zled by the mysterious and life-like motion of the 
needle. He then digressed — very naturally — to 
geography, navigation, astronomy, and the different 
races of men ; giving them, in short, the first dis- 
course on the natural sciences ever uttered by a 
Saxon on the continent. Little as they compre- 
hended all this, in one important thing the lecturer 
succeeded, — he impressed them with profound rev- 
erence for himself. They had before stood in awe 
of him, as the great man and master spirit of the 
strangers ; they had admired his courage, his endur- 
ance of fatigue, his manly reliance upon himself dur- 
ing his previous excursions ; and they had just seen 
with what heroic daring and resolution he could 
defend himself against hundreds. But he now 
seemed to them as a pet child of Nature, to whom 
her deepest mysteries were free and her grandest 
works playthings. In other words, they suspected 
him of possessing supernatural knowledge and 
powers. 

But there was one thing in nature with which this 
wonderful captive had had no acquaintance, — Death. 
How would he meet that ? Would he make that a 
plaything ? Or would he scorn it ? Or would he 
fear it ? Opechancanough would see. So he or- 
dered him to be bound to a tree. Would he ask to 
be spared ? Would he offer ransom ? Would he 
turn pale and tremble ? Would he struggle, or even 
shut his eyes, when twenty braves should draw their 
bows against him ? Would he cry out and writhe, 
when twenty arrows should have nailed him where 
he stood ? Opechancanough would see. 

Smith was led forward, — no hanging back, no 



82 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

tremor. He was bound, — no resistance. The bow- 
men were drawn out, — no prayer for life. The 
arrows were fixed upon the strings, — no trembling, 
no pallor. The shafts were drawn and aimed, — no 
word of ransom. The signal was given ; the bow- 
strings twanged. The white man did not blink his 
eye, or shriek, or leap, or writhe. He stood there, 
silent and calm. The arrows had dropped at the feet 
of the archers. Opechancanough had seen ! 

He was satisfied. He was proud of such a captive. 
He would show him through the country in triumph ; 
for Powhattan himself had never won so great a tro- 
phy. So he was led in grand procession and great 
pomp to Orapakes, — a favorite hunting-seat of Pow- 
hattan, a few miles northeast of the spot where he 
had first met Smith and Newport ; thence, to be 
exhibited to the various tribes on the Rappahannock 
and Potomac rivers ; thence, to Pamunkey, the resi- 
dence of Opechancanough, near the fork of York 
River ; and finally, to Werowocomoco, then the 
favorite residence of Powhattan, about twenty-five 
miles below Pamunkey. This triumphal march oc^ 
cupied about six weeks, during which time he was 
most bountifully fed, and with the choicest which the 
savages could provide. In a letter to the queen of 
James the First, written in 1616, Smith calls this 
" six weeks of fatting 1 among those grim courtiers " ; 
for he supposed, during the journey, that they were 
preparing him by good living to serve as a delicate 
dish for Powhattan's table. " I think," says Smith's 
narrative, " his [Smith's] stomacke at that time was 
not very good." 

While at Orapakes, the Indians made preparations 



POCAHONTAS. 83 

to take Jamestown by surprise ; thinking it might be 
done now the great man of the strangers was not 
there to protect them. Opechancanough revealed this 
scheme to his prisoner, adding : " We would have the 
white warrior be our brother and fight with us." 

" Against his own people ! " 

" They are dogs, lazy and greedy ; women, weak 
and cowardly. Such are not the people of a warrior. 
Be of our people, who are brave." 

" The white man may not kill the white man." 

" But I can kill thee ! " said the chief, for the moment 
in a passion at Smith's refusal. But recovering his 
dignity, he added : " Be our brother and our warrior, 
and save thy life." 

" The dwelling of the English cannot be taken by 
the warriors of Powhattan." 

A scornful incredulity was on the face of the chief 
as he replied : " Opechancanough offers his captive — 
life." 

" Do I fear to die ? " 

" Opecancanough will give — freedom." 

M The dwelling of the white men is like the nest of 
the eagle. The thunderbolts of the Great Spirit play 
around it." 

" And as much land as the white warrior wants." 

" You cannot take the place of the English." 

" And as many wives." 

" Go first," said Smith, with emphasis, " and see 
the white man's fort. It is strong." 

" We have many warriors, — great warriors. The 
white men are weak without their chief. They sleep." 

" They have strong walls, and wakeful guards, and 
great thunder-bearers which will sweep down your 



84 



THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 



braves as the wind does those snow-flakes from yon- 
der pine." 

" Their chief can make the thunder-bearers sleep." 

" King of Pamunkey ! " said Smith, earnestly, " you 
have men. Let your messengers go and see. When 
they come back, if they say that your warriors, and I 
with them, can destroy the lodges of the English, I 
will talk again about the matter. Till then, I will 
neither go nor talk. You have my answer. Send 
and see." 

The chief pondered a few moments, and then said : 
" Opechancanough will send." 

Smith tore a leaf from a note-book in his posses- 
sion, and wrote upon it, informing the colonists of 
his condition, and of the plot of the Indians ; telling 
them in some way to give the messengers a terrible 
idea of their means of defence, and to send him cer- 
tain toys and trinkets. 

" Let your runners take that to the English. The 
English will send to Opechancanough great pres- 
ents," — specifying the particular articles for which 
he had written. 

The runners left " in as severe weather as frost and 
snow could make," and returned in three days with 
terrific accounts of the huge instruments of death by 
which the fort was protected. They brought also the 
identical " great presents " which Smith had enumer- 
ated to the chief. At this he and his warriors were 
in amazement. It was necromancy. Their prisoner 
could talk with the English, though ever so far off! 
It confirmed their previous suspicion of his preter- 
natural powers. With such ideas of the English 
garrison, and of the wonderful gifts of its protec- 



POCAHONTAS. 85 

tor-chief, the design against Jamestown was aban- 
doned. 

Thus again did Smith prove the saviour of the 
colony. 

So impressed were the Indians with the idea that 
he was a being of more than human endowments, 
that they were extremely anxious to ascertain whether 
he was disposed to use his gifts to their good or their 
hurt. At Pamunkey, therefore, they took means to 
solve this question. For three successive days they 
submitted their captive to a series of incantations too 
absurd and frivolous for detail. It is enough to say, 
that his guards were withdrawn from his presence, 
and he was shut up face to face with half a dozen 
savages in the guise of fiends, and compelled to en- 
dure their wild and frantic distortions, their ludicrous 
antics and grimaces, their howls and shrieks, their 
fantastic dances and silly mummeries, without cessa- 
tion and without food, from morning to night of each 
day, — a pantomime by which a man of only common 
self-possession would have been goaded to rage, and 
one of sensitive nerves to frenzy. To what conclu- 
sion the conjurers came, neither history nor tradition 
affirms. 

Before his captivity, the fame of Smith had reached 
the most remote and humble of Powhattan's subjects. 
They had conceived of him as the presiding genius 
of the colony ; as the wise, the bold, the energetic, 
the hero-man of the strangers. But from the day of 
his capture in the swamps of the Chickahominy, he 
became a sort of demigod in the eye of the supersti- 
tious people. Strange tales of his fearlessness, of his 
valor, of his terrible might, of his mysterious knowl- 



86 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

edge, of his superhuman power, had floated far and 
wide ; and in every village and wigwam on his route 
his coming had been anticpiated with awe. The 
few who had seen him on his errands of traffic of 
course knew his person truly. But to the many who 
had only heard, he was simply the champion, the 
patriarch, the wonderful sage, of the white men. 
For them, a wild imagination drew and colored his 
portrait. No wonder, then, that grave warriors and 
" grim courtiers," and women and youths and maidens, 
flocked to behold him on his way ; and especially, as 
he waited with fearless composure in the village of 
Powhattan for his introduction to the presence of the 
chief. But how great must have been the amaze- 
ment of the throng, when "the champion" dwindled 
to the stature of a common man ; " the sage " stood 
before them comely and vigorous ; and in " the patri- 
arch " they beheld an attractive yet imposing youth 
of twenty-seven years ! Imagine the sensations of 
scarred and brawny veterans, as they scanned the 
form, the features, the quiet attitude of the captive ; 
of the shrinking matron, as she looked from behind 
her savage lord ; of the timid girl, as she peeped 
through the mat which covered the door of her hut. 

So distinguished a prisoner Powhattan would re- 
ceive in state ; and considerable time elapsed before 
preparations could be made. The great chief, "whose 
will was supreme and whose nod was law," had at 
length gathered and arrayed his court. On either 
side, and all along the spacious apartment or hall, 
were ranged two rows of women ; in front of them, 
two rows of men ; all in their best clothing, their best 
paints, and their best ornaments. Powhattan occu- 



POCAHONTAS. 87 

pied an elevated couch covered with choice and beau- 
tiful mats, and was clad in an ample robe of fars. 
From his neck hung a rich chain of great pearls. A 
pillow of dressed deer-skin, beautifully embroidered 
with shells and beads, supported his arm ; and two 
young women sat with him on either side, their jet- 
black hair sprinkled with snow-white down, and their 
necks encircled by bands of inferior pearls. 

A peal of welcome greeted the captive at his en 
trance. Then a profound silence, and the steadfast 
gaze of every eye, evinced the respect and admira- 
tion of the assembly. Smith, though received with 
grave and stately dignity by Powhattan, was treated 
more like a princely guest, than like a prisoner whose 
life hung upon the decision of the hour. A young 
beauty of the woods, the Queen of Appamattuck, 
brought him water to wash his hands ; and another 
presented to him a bunch of feathers for a napkin. 
Choice food was then set before him, and he was bid- 
den to eat while the council were discussing the ques- 
tion of his life or his death. " I think his stomacke at 
that time was not very good." 

Immediately behind the chief, and half hidden by 
his flowing robe, sat a little girl of " twelve or thirteen 
years of age." She was a specimen of Indian beauty 
unrivalled in all Powhattan' s dominions ; and right 
proud was he to call her " daughter." There was sin- 
gular intelligence in her vivid dark eye, while the 
fringe which overhung and softened its brilliance was 
a true type of her native modesty. Her faultless form 
had the peculiar charm which belongs to girlhood just 
ready to assume the full outline and finished grace to 
which nature impels it. 



88 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

At Smith's entrance, her countenance betrayed sur- 
prise ; and, no longer shrinking as if for protection 
under the shadow of her royal father, she sat erect, 
intently observing every movement and feature of the 
captive. The discussion respecting his fate was long 
and solemn. As it proceeded, her attitude, her fea- 
tures, changed. She turned her earnest eye from each 
successive speaker to the prisoner, to her father, to her 
uncles, who were great in council as in war ; showing 
evidently that she had a speech in her heart, and that, 
if she were not a little girl, she would speak it. She 
heard the grave counsellors of her father utter words 
of admiration, of respect, and even of reverence, for 
their captive ; but, to her amazement, she perceived 
that all their praises were arguments for his death. 
They would have him killed because he was brave 
and valiant and wise ! because he was the strong 
arm, the good head, and the big heart of the English ! 
because, if he died, his brothers would perish as the 
leaves do when the sapling is severed from its root ! 
She glanced at the young and noble man whose vir- 
tues were crimes, who was a culprit because a hero. 
Pity tapped at the door of her young heart, and en- 
tered ; and then opened the fountain there till its wa- 
ters welled up and flowed forth in tears. She looked 
in her father's face; but there were no tears there, 
no sign of pity; nothing but sternness, — heartless, 
savage sternness. She gently pulled at the skirt of his 
robe ; but he testily put it in place again, and bent 
his brow darkly upon his victim. The decision was 
given. The young warrior must die. Pity now took 
counsel with Grief, and they made such commotion in 
the maiden's heart, they woke up such courage and 



POCAHONTAS. 89 

resolution and " I-will " there, that she climbed upon 
her father's couch, and laid her hand softly upon her 
father's arm, — it was so softly, and he was so busy 
with big and bloody thoughts, that he did not feel it. 
A great stone was just then brought in and laid before 
him. She looked up at his face again, through her 
tears ; but it was sterner than before. Then she crept 
around upon his knee, threw herself upon his neck, and 
sobbed. He was surprised and angry ; but he loved 
her : she was the pride and darling of his heart. So 
he removed her gently, with a look and word of re- 
proof. But she would not be reproved. She clung 
to his arm, laid her head upon his shoulder, and whis- 
pered pleading, piteous words in his ear. Passion, 
for the moment, got the better of the father's heart, 
and he thrust the child away ; frowning because the 
gravity of a council, and dignity of a king, were en- 
croached upon by a soft-hearted girl. She made one 
imploring gesture, then sank at his feet, buried her face 
in her hands, and sobbed aloud. All this intercession 
had been rapid and brief. Powhattan petulantly 
signed to one of the young women who shared his 
seat of state to remove the child ; but hearing a noise, 
she looked up and saw the white man stretched on 
the ground, his head upon a stone, and an Indian 
standing over him with a war-club, watching for the 
signal of the chief. 

With a faint scream, the maiden sprang from her 
crouching posture, knelt beside the prostrate man, 
threw her arms around his person, and laid her head 
upon his, above the stone of death. She spoke no 
word, but looked. It was a mild, mournful look, — 
a mute but thrilling, reproachful farewell to her relent- 

8* 



90 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

less father. She closed her eyes. The grave is not 
more silent than was the council-room of Powhattan. 

" God hath chosen the foolish things of the world 
to confound the wise, and the weak things of the 
world to confound the things which are mighty." 
The boar out of the wood would have wasted, the 
wild-beast of the field would have devoured, the vine 
which He was planting. To save it — for the life of 
Smith was the life of Virginia — He interposed an 
unbaptized infant. By the dumb eloquence of a tear- 
ful girl, He brought to naught the counsels of princes. 
And now the vine filleth the land. The hills are cov- 
ered with the shadow of it, and the boughs thereof 
are like goodly cedars. It has sent out its boughs 
unto the sea, and its branches beyond the rivers. 

Powhattan was in the toils of his " most deare and 
beloved" Pocahontas. She had taken hold of his 
strength. He relented; yielded. The decree of death 
was reversed. 

" I will spare him," said the despotic chief, u for a 
servant. He shall make hatchets for me, and bells 
and rattles for her." 

Yet, for some reason, the chief's heart was further 
softened towards his captive. Instead of using him 
as a servant, he instantly received him to the intimacy 
of a friend ; and even promised him his liberty, a large 
tract of land, and " for ever to esteeme him his sonne," 
if he would send him from Jamestown two pieces of 
cannon and a grindstone, which his heart exceedingly 
longed for. To this Smith promptly agreed. The 
chief was true to his word ; and on the third day after 
his head lay a mark for the executioner's mace, Smith 
was on his way to Jamestown. So little, however, 



POCAHONTAS. 91 

did be confide in Powhattan's good intentions, that 
he was in constant expectation of being murdered by 
his escort. But, says his narrative, " Almighty God, 
by his divine providence, had mollified the hearts of 
those stern barbarians with compassion." 

He was now to fulfil his promise. He therefore 
presented to his guides a grindstone and two can- 
non, bidding the Indians take them to Powhattan. 
" They found them somewhat too heavie." 

" Ugh ! " exclaimed their chief, who was a faithful 
captain of Powhattan. 

" Rawhunt ! I keep my word," said Smith. " I 
promised. I give. You will not take ? " 

The Indians looked blank, and Rawhunt gravely 
shook his head. 

" Very well, Rawhunt; but you must tell Powhat- 
tan what I have done." 

" We will tell." 

" And tell him also how the thunderers speak, and 
how they strike. Look at yonder tree," pointing to a 
veteran pine loaded with icicles ; " I will tell the thun- 
derers to strike it." 

The cannon were well charged with stones. The 
ice flew ; the huge branches crashed and fell ; the 
savages turned and fled. So terribly were they fright- 
ened, that it was not without some ado that they could 
be found and brought to conference again. But this 
done, Smith atoned for their disappointment and 
fright by presents for themselves, Powhattan, and his 
family. The party then left, highly delighted with 
their trinkets, and with clear convictions of the terri- 
ble power of cannon and white men.* 

* The statements in this chapter will be found in Smith, 46-49; 
Stith, 50-56; Burk, I. 104-116. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE EOYAL SHAKPEK. — THE C ONFL AGE ATION.— GOLD. 

It was now late in the month of December. The 
number of the colonists was reduced to forty. They 
were suffering for want of provisions, which they had 
heedlessly wasted ; and no one among them had skill 
or enterprise enough to supply their lack. Neither 
was any one competent to maintain peace and order. 
To complete their sad condition, they were at strife 
among themselves ; the larger number being resolved 
to abandon the settlement, and just on the eve of 
departure. 

Under such circumstances, Captain Smith's re- 
appearance, after his seven weeks' captivity, to those 
who had thought him dead, was an event of great joy 
to all save the very few to whom his popularity was 
offensive, and his soldierly decision irksome. He 
promptly met the present emergency, and suppressed 
the attempt at desertion. Once more, with cannon 
and musketry pointed upon the pinnace, he gave the 
discontented their choice, — to stay or sink. Of 
course they stayed. 

But when he related the circumstances of his deliv- 
erance, made known the change in Powhattan's tem- 
per, his present liberal disposition, and the profusion 
of food at his command, the colonists took heart, and 
looked upon the future with hope. Hardly were his 



THE ROYAL SHARPER. 93 

cheering words uttered, and comprehended by his de- 
sponding companions, before they were verified. Poc- 
ahontas herself, bright with smiles and happy in her 
errand, appeared before the garrison, with a train of 
attendants laden with baskets of provisions. 

A child, bringing its offering with a loving and un- 
selfish heart to minister to the want or pleasure of 
another ; in its simplicity and purity of intent, uncon- 
scious that it is doing an angel-errand ; and, like an 
angel, absorbed and blessed in the happiness it im- 
parts ; — what a lesson, what a rebuke, to its elders, 
so thoughtless of a neighbor's want, so callous to a 
brother's sorrow or a sister's need, so apt, so glib, in 
only saying, " Be warmed, be clothed " ! 

This was not a passing fancy of Pocahontas. 
While the want of the English continued, it was her 
habit. Every few days, she brought her precious 
gifts ; and quietly returned to her lodge, to dream of 
the happy faces which she had left in the white man's 
home. 

Nor was this all. Other Indians came, bringing 
presents of food from Pocahontas or Powhattan. 
Others still, brought from their granaries to exchange. 
Their reverence for Smith, and their confidence in 
him, were unbounded. They would stand aloof from 
the fort, under cover of the woods, and call aloud his 
name. But they would neither approach nor show 
themselves until he had made his appearance ; nor 
would they sell either corn, beans, or venison until 
he had fixed their prices. 

Such was the state of things when Newport re- 
turned from England, with new emigrants, provisions, 
and other necessaries. This man, among other un- 



94 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

enviable peculiarities, " was a very great and impor- 
tant person in his own talk and conceit." " He had a 
mean jealousy of Captain Smith, on account of his 
brilliant qualities and the estimation in which he was 
held by the colonists " ; and, it may be added, on 
account of his almost limitless influence with the 
natives. In this latter sentiment he harmonized with 
the President and Council, of which body, it will be 
remembered, he was one. Smith's policy of trade — 
namely, rating English wares at the value set upon 
them by the Indians themselves — was at once aban- 
doned. To magnify themselves in the eyes of the 
natives as men superior to Smith in wealth and in 
generosity, Newport and his associates adopted a lav- 
ish system of traffic, giving four times as much as 
Smith had done in exchange for Indian commodities. 
In addition, Newport scattered presents without con- 
sideration or stint. Ruinous as this course was to the 
interests of the colony, it secured, temporarily at least, 
the selfish end which Newport had in view. It exalt- 
ed him in the opinion of the natives, and in that of 
Powhattan himself. The great chief of the Indians 
longed to see the great chief of the English. 

Accordingly, Newport and Smith arranged for a 
visit to Werowocomoco : Newport, to enjoy the ad- 
miration of a savage ; Smith, to strengthen the chief's 
conviction of English power, and to confirm a good 
understanding by friendly intercourse ; — Newport, 
through vanity; Smith, for the public good. They 
left Jamestown in the pinnace, with forty armed men, 
and were accompanied by Mr. Matthew Scrivener, a 
worthy man, who had just arrived in the colony, and 
had been elected a member of the Council. They 



THE ROYAL SHARPER. 95 

had hardly reached the mouth of James River, before 
Captain Newport manifested signs of uneasiness ; for 
" he was a man very fearful in times of danger." 

" Will it do to trust these fellows, Captain Smith ? " 

" The Indians ? That depends upon circumstances. 
I would not absolutely trust them at any time." 

" Well, under present circumstances ? " 

" Perhaps I ought to say, not at all." 

"But we are about to ! " 

" Not literally, Captain Newport. So many mus- 
kets look more like trust in ourselves." 

" You cannot use a musket, Captain Smith, unless 
you can see your mark ; and these fellows skulk. If 
there is anything I detest, it is a creeping scoundrel 
who will not show himself. A man may be walking 
in those woods, fancying himself alone, until the yells 
of the devils are in his ears, and their arrows flying, — 
just as it was with you, sir, in Chickahominy swamp." 

" That is very true, Captain Newport." 

" Upon my word, Captain, that ivas a ticklish affair." 

" But < all 's well that ends well,' as Will Shake- 
speare has proved." 

" O yes, Captain ; when a thing ends well, you call 
it comedy, or romance, or what not ; but if that fel- 
low's war-club had developed your brains, it would 
have been simple tragedy. Not very agreeable, that 
sort of thing. Little girls don't grow on every bush, 
Captain Smith." 

" But I see something in every bush," looking at 
the neighboring shore. 

"Do you? Faith, Captain, I thought I saw one 
myself ! Where, sir ? " 

" One ! one what, sir ? " 



96 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" An Indian, to be sure." 

" You mistook me, sir. I said, ' I see something in 
every bush.' I meant, sir, that I have experienced 
the protection and deliverance of the Almighty so 
often, and so wonderfully, that I cannot help recog- 
nizing His presence and care everywhere." 

" O, that is all well enough. Yet men do get their 
brains knocked out, after all. But tell me plainly, 
sir, do you think it safe to prosecute our course ? " 

" Certainly I do, sir." 

" Do you, Mr. Scrivener ? " 

" I confide in Captain Smith's judgment and expe- 
rience, sir. I see no danger." 

" But the devil of it is, Mr. Scrivener, that among 
these fellows one never sees it. The first he knows 
of it, it 's on him. For my part, I think we had bet- 
ter give up this fool's errand, before we get our necks 
into some noose or other." 

Smith saw that he was serious, and protested ; and 
Scrivener, who was a man of good sense and cool 
judgment, joined him. For half an hour, the matter 
was debated warmly ; and it was not without much 
argument and reiterated assurances that their guard 
was sufficient security, that Newport consented to 
proceed. At last they reached the mouth of York 
River and the shore of Werowocomoco. The landing 
was bad, and in Newport's eyes ominous. They 
soon encountered a creek. 

" What now ? " exclaimed Newport, as the stream, 
half water, half ice, met his eye. " Do you take me 
for a water-rat ? In the name of humanity, how am 
I to get over here ? " 

" By the bridge, sir." 



THE ROYAL SHARPER. 97 

" Bridge ! what bridge ? " 

" That, sir," replied Smith, suppressing a smile, 
and pointing to a rude structure of poles and bark. 

Newport looked at the affair, and then looked at 
Captain Smith, with a half-angry, half-doubting ex- 
pression. At length he asked, in a tone as though he 
would solemnly appeal to Smith's honor : " Do you 
mean to say to me, Captain Smith, that that thing 
was ever intended for men to walk on ? " 

w Certainly, sir : we must cross upon it." 

" Do you suppose /will ? " 

" I trust so, sir. It is a very rustic affair, but suffi- 
cient." 

" Humph ! " 

" I will cross it, Captain Newport. The rest of us 
will cross it. That will prove its safety." 

This was done ; and after much persuasion, New- 
port ventured. The frail structure shook and swayed 
under his tread, and he carefully inspected every spot 
upon which he was to plant his foot, until on solid 
ground. But when they came to a second creek, 
with another like crossing, he hung back with decis- 
ion. He began to surmise Indian craft and treachery. 

" These things are man-traps, Captain Smith. That 
I got safely over one, is no proof that I shall get safely 
over two." 

" Captain Newport, they are the only kind of bridges 
which these simple people have. They are built for 
their own use." 

" Not so very simple, Captain Smith. Not too 

simple to be cunning. Suppose, sir, we get stuck 

fast in one of these affairs, — and they look as though 

we might, — up come some ten score of savages, with 

9 



98 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

their infernal whoops, and what are we to do ? Can't 
fight, — can't run, — a pretty scrape ! " 

" Captain Newport, I have had some acquaintance 
with Indian habits and cunning ; but this is the first 
time I ever heard of man-traps in Virginia. Depend 
upon it, you are mistaken, sir." 

" I am not apt to be mistaken, Captain Smith. 
Things look very much as though Powhattan had ar- 
ranged some deviltry. For my part, I go no farther." 
" Very well, Captain Newport. I am willing to 
go. Retain twenty men, if you please, in the pin- 
nace, and I will advance with twenty." 
To this Newport consented. 

Smith had proceeded but a little way, when he 
was met by two or three hundred Indians, among 
whom was Nantaquis, the king's son, — " the most 
manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit I ever saw in a 
salvage," said Smith, in his letter to Queen Anne. 
These men were sent by Powhattan as an escort of 
honor, and welcomed their visitor with loud shouts, 
which must have been heard by Newport, and prob- 
ably to his great alarm. 

Powhattan received his late captive with great pa- 
rade, in presence of his wives and chief warriors, and 
of a guard of four or five hundred men. Proclama- 
tion was made, warning all, on pain of death, to 
refrain from all harm, and even discourtesy, to the 
strangers. Powhattan gave his guest a cordial wel- 
come, and a seat beside his own royal couch. Smith 
entered leading a beautiful white greyhound, which, 
with a suit of clothes of scarlet cloth and an English 
hat, he immediately offered for the chiefs acceptance. 
Gladly and proudly were they accepted, and with all 



THE ROYAL SHARPER. 99 

that easy but dignified courtesy for which Powhattan 
was remarkable. In an address uttered with unaf- 
fected grace, he said that he received them not so 
gladly because they were beautiful and good in them- 
selves, as because they were beautiful and good 
tokens of perpetual good-will between the receiver 
and the giver. Water to wash and food were next 
in order. 

" Where is your father ? " inquired Powhattan, 
meaning Captain Newport. 

" He will visit you to-morrow " ; not doubting that 
Newport's courage would revive when he should find 
that his forerunner had escaped snares and ambus- 
cade. 

" Where are the great guns and the hatchet-sharp- 
ener which you promised me ? " said the chief, archly. 

" Your men were not strong enough to bring them." 

" Yes, yes," with a hearty laugh ; " Rawhunt told 
me how it was. But" — with mock gravity — "my 
white friend should speak the truth." 

" Do I not speak the truth ? " said Smith, startled, 
and a little puzzled. 

" No," with still more seriousness. 

" In what do I speak untrue ? " 

" My men were strong enough. The fault was in 
the guns. They were too big." 

Smith laughed in his turn ; and Powhattan added, 
with a waggish look : " The thing can easily be done. 
Try some that are smaller." 

" But," said Smith, adopting the royal humor, " where 
is the land which you promised me ? " 

" You shall have it, you shall have it," was the 
quick reply. " But I shall expect these warriors of 



100 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

yours first to lay their arms at my feet, as all my 
subjects do." 

" Our enemies demand that ; not our friends." 

Smith then assured him that the English were his 
friends, and urged him not to doubt it. He also said, 
that, whenever Powhattan should be ready for it, the 
English would join him to reduce to his subjection 
the neighboring tribes his enemies. This address 
Powhattan received with undisguised satisfaction, 
and replied to it in a long oration, which he con- 
cluded by creating Smith a werowance, or chief, of 
the nation. 

In such pleasant intercourse, with feasting, dancing, 
singing, and various sports, they passed the day and 
evening. 

The next morning Newport was found by Smith. 
Convinced that he might venture his precious life, he 
was introduced to Powhattan and his court, and was 
received with the same distinction and hospitality 
which had been shown to Smith. Thus passed the 
day. At night the English returned to the pinnace. 
But when they were together again at breakfast, Pow- 
hattan expressed displeasure at the presence of the 
English soldiers. 

" Why do you come with armed men to a friendly 
talk ? Do I treat you so ? Look at my men ; they 
have no weapons. Am I not your friend ? "Why 
doubt me ? Why fear ? This looks as though you 
did not trust me." 

" We have no doubt and no fear," said Smith ; 
" but it is the custom of our country, that our cap- 
tains should always be attended by their soldiers." 

Newport, ascertaining the subject of conversation, 



THE ROYAL SHARPER. 101 

went at one stride from timidity to rash confidence ; 
and, turning to the soldiers, he ordered them all to 
the pinnace. 

" Then I go too," said Smith. " It is necessary to 
proper prudence." 

He went. But this did not satisfy the chief. He 
was suspicious enough not to like the idea of Smith 
out of his sight, and with an armed force. Newport 
then sent Mr. Scrivener to take charge of the soldiers 
in Smith's stead. Still Powhattan murmured, until 
his attention was diverted by the exhibition of trin- 
kets and wares for the purpose of traffic. Three or 
four days were now occupied with various pastimes 
and with trade. 

At last the chief himself undertook to drive a bar- 
gain. Addressing Newport, through Smith as inter- 
preter, he said : " I am a great prince. You are a 
great prince." He had exalted notions of Newport's 
civil rank. " It is beneath our princely station to buy 
and sell and bargain. We leave such things for 
mean men. Let us act like princes. Lay before me 
the goods which you think would please a prince like 
myself. I will choose what suit my mind. Then, in 
my turn, I will lay before you their value in my goods. 
Thus we will be satisfied with each other, and without 
being pedlers." 

This majestic proposition Smith faithfully trans- 
lated, but added : " Beware, sir, what you do. He 
intends to jew you." 

" I know how to manage a savage, Captain Smith, 
and am not to be jewed by one, if he does call him- 
self a big prince. I have my wits about me." 

He immediately ordered all his goods to be spread 

9* 



102 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

out. Powhattan, with the utmost coolness, selected 
all that he cared for ; in return for which he should 
have given about twenty hogsheads of corn. With 
an air of stately generosity, he gave — four bushels! 
Newport was exceedingly nettled ; not merely because 
he had been so brazenly outwitted, but because his 
merchandise was now exhausted, and the supplies 
which he intended to provide for the whole colony 
were, by a sort of sleight of hand, reduced to four 
bushels of corn. Done by a savage, too ! But it ivas 
done, and the chapfallen white prince had no remedy. 
He could only vent his irritation upon the very man 
who had warned him. But Smith, though he resented 
this with the spirit of a soldier, generously resolved to 
devise some means to step between Newport and his 
mortification. Turning the attention of the parties, 
as if nothing unusual had happened, to some sports 
which were going on, he suffered to be seen partially, 
and as if by accident, some beads in his possession 
unlike any which had been known to the Indians. 
Powhattan's eye and fancy were caught. He sud- 
denly forgot his dignity in his desire to trade. 

" But these are jewels of great value," Smith ob- 
jected ; " too precious for trade." 

" Yet what will not friendship do ? " replied the 
chief. " And what will not Powhattan's new wero- 
wance, once his captive, do for the father of Poca- 
hontas ? " 

He knew human nature. But so did Smith ; and 
he stood his ground. 

« Powhattan speaks truly. His new werowance 
cannot forget. If I could part with these to any one 
in this country, would it not be to the father of the 



THE ROYAL SHARPER. 103 

best and most beautiful princess in the world ? They 
ivould look gloriously upon the neck of Pocahontas ! " 
holding them up. " They are made of a most rare 
and precious substance ; and see ! they are of the 
color of the sky ! They are not worn but by the 
greatest kings." 

" Powhattan is a great king, and can give a great 
price." 

« True; but — but — " 

" My new werowance was going to say — " 

" He was going to say, Would not my king be 
offended ? He does not know how great a king 
Powhattan is." 

Thus did Smith excite the cupidity and royal am- 
bition of the chief, and manifest greater reluctance to 
part with his precious merchandise ; while Powhattan, 
on his part, was the more eager, and rose rapidly in 
his offers. At last Smith was overcome. 

" Powhattan did spare my life. He spared it for 
the sake of Pocahontas. He shall have his wish," 
adding, with great seriousness and emphasis, " for 
Pocahontas' sake." 

For a pound or two of these jewels, Smith received 
about three hundred bushels of corn. But this was 
not all. A new and valued article of trade was thus 
introduced. Others of royal blood were ambitious ; 
and sky-blue beads were purchased at enormous rates 
by the greatest of the chiefs, for themselves, their 
wives and children, and became privileged ornaments 
for the nobility. 

Through their whole visit, the English received 
unbounded and even assiduous hospitality from Pow- 
hattan. He manifested no uneasiness except on one 



104 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

point, that Newport and Smith would never pass the 
day in his presence — their nights were spent on 
board the pinnace — without more or less attendants 
in arms. He tried repeatedly to induce them " not 
to bring their pieces with them lest his women should 
be frightened " ; and took particular dislike to the 
sword and pistol which Smith always carried upon 
his person. Newport — at what risks we cannot 
know — would have humored the chief, but Smith 
always contrived to be under proper guard. 

After a visit of two days to Opechancanough at 
Pamunkey, they returned to Werowocomoco ; and 
thence, with a full freight of provisions, to Jamestown. 

The weather was intensely cold ; but the settlers 
had comfortable, though rude, dwellings for their pro- 
tection. They gathered around their ample hearths, 
enjoying the cheerful light and heat, while the wind 
whistled and the sleet rattled without. Bread was 
now plenty ; venison and wild-fowl smoked upon 
their trenchers ; they passed their days in moderate 
labor or in idleness, and their long evenings in songs 
or social games, in talking of English homes, or build- 
ing castles in the air. They had no fear of savages, 
no fear of famine, no fear of sickness, no fear of sher- 
iffs. This last was a special luxury to many of the 
new-comers. Yet, while thus enjoying the present, 
and recldess of the future, an enemy was in their 
midst. In one of the tenements the wood was blaz- 
ing and crackling upon the hearth, and the fire-light 
was dancing upon the rough wall, the simple furni- 
ture, the humble bed, and the burnished muskets. It 
was taking an inventory of all these things. Sud- 



THE CONFLAGRATION. 105 

denly the blaze leaped and climbed up its smoke- 
dried chimney of sticks and clay, ran along upon the 
roof of thatch and reeds, dropped down within, and 
devoured all the goodly things it had looked so pleas- 
antly upon just before. But fire is no more satisfied 
with fuel, than the grave with its congregation ; and 
from the ruins in which it revelled it flew to another 
roof, and licked up all beneath it ; and then to an- 
other, and another. It fed, too, on clothing, and bed- 
ding, and furniture, and muskets, and swords. It 
wound its long red arms around the granaries, and 
laughed and danced over every kernel which Newport 
had brought from Werowocomoco. It did not spare 
even the dwelling of " good Master Hunt," the de- 
voted preacher and peacemaker of the settlement, but 
made havoc and ashes of all the worthy man's books, 
— his only comforts and true companions in the wil- 
derness, except his God. There were only three 
things of his which the fire did not touch, — the 
clothing on his back, the peace of God in his heart, 
and his house eternal in the heavens. The " gentle- 
men " swore over their losses, which time might re- 
place ; but Master Hunt, though he was poor and 
could get no more books, had not a heart to murmur, 
for the voice of Jesus whispered within, and there was 
a great calm there. They raved over the destruction 
of their provisions ; but Master Hunt had bread to 
eat which they knew not of. They fretted under 
bereavement; he quieted and comforted himself as 
a child that is weaned of his mother. 

Such is the difference, on the sea of life, between 
the filial and the unfilial. 

It was truly a melancholy sight, — the little clear- 
ing in the wilderness blackened with the smoking 



106 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ruins of so many habitations, — of so much which is 
essential in a biting winter to the comfort and life of 
men far from their country, and surrounded by inter- 
minable forests. It did require some nerve, and strong 
faith in God, and a chastened spirit, for a man to 
stand there half clad, shelterless, shivering, grubbing 
in the ashes for half-burnt corn, yet composed and un- 
repining and hopeful. And it did require some dar- 
ing, and some searing of the heart, for a man to stand 
there upbraiding the only Power who could bring 
relief. Yet some did it; lacking against the goad, 
rather than kiss the rod. 

The fire had spared much ; some of their dwellings, 
their ammunition, and food enough to sustain them, 
with economy, for the present. 

But now came a worse calamity. The same in- 
sanity which makes men forget and distrust the true 
God, makes them weary themselves, for very vanity, 
in slaving to the god of this world. Mammon had 
prompted a large proportion of the last immigrants, 
— " serving-men, libertines, bankrupts in character, 
bankrupts in fortune," outcasts from the drawing- 
room, the tap-room, the brothel, — greedy for gold, and 
dreaming that it might be had in Virginia for the 
gathering. To help them to their visionary fortunes, 
they had brought with them two goldsmiths, two re- 
finers, and one jeweller. 

Their god drave them to their tasks. " Lo ! here is 
gold, — here, at your gate, — here, in this little rivu- 
let in the woods. See, how it glitters ! Dig, — dig, 
— dig. Dig, and regain your fortunes. Dig, and 
renew your riotous living." 

It did glitter there, — in the bed of the brook, and 
along its brink, and in the stones and rocks on its 



GOLD. 107 

banks, — in small particles, but abundant, yellow as 
heart could wish, and bright with promise. 

" It is gold ! it is gold ! " said Newport and Martin. 

" It is gold," said the goldsmiths. 

" It is gold," said the refiners, as they came out 
from their secret "trials." 

" Until you can show me a more substantial trial, I 
am not enamored of your dirty skill," said Captain 
Smith ; and so said Mr. Scrivener ; and so, perhaps, a 
few others. 

But the vote was " Gold." And the order was, 
" Work, men, work ! A fig for house-building ! 
Delve, shovel, wheel, and carry." So the men worked 
and shovelled and carried, with stinted food and 
stinted sleep and stinted quarters, through some ten 
or twelve weeks of winter cold; and the ship was 
loaded with sparkling treasure, to be discharged and 
purified and coined in England. Thither it went, 
and there it was discharged, — a cargo of mud and 
mica added to the bulk of Britain ! 

Mammon is a despot; his gifts, the apples of 
Sodom. 

The scanty supplies of grain which the fire had 
spared were mostly taken for the home-bound sailors ; 
for the bait of Satan had kept them there fourteen 
weeks instead of fourteen days, and the ship's stores 
were exhausted. The colonists were left hungry and 
faint ; living on a daily dole of meal and water, " wild 
fruits of the earth, crabs, muscles, and such like " ; 
worn with toil ; suffering from cold and wet, in mis- 
erable and crowded shelters. Before spring opened, 
there were many added to the row of graves which 
began with the murdered boy, and where Stevens 
and Gosnold lay. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 

Radcliffe, the President, was a weak-minded and 
indolent man, who thought it beneath his official dig- 
nity to leave the fort. Martin's ill-health, and his 
rage for gold, rendered him for all useful purposes 
a cipher. With them were associated others, form- 
ing & strong party, jealous of the enterprise and influ- 
ence of Captain Smith, disposed to thwart his plans, 
and more zealous for their own ease and indulgence, 
than for the protection and thrift of the common- 
wealth. Thus every task necessary to safety, com- 
fort, and prosperity depended upon the counsels and 
activity of Smith, Scrivener, and some of the sub- 
stantial colonists whom good sense and manliness 
united with them. By their means, when Newport 
and his cargo were gone, the ground was planted, 
and new buildings were erected on the ruins of the 
old. While engaged in this latter task, they were 
cheered by a new arrival. 

The barque Phoenix, Captain Nelson, had left Eng- 
land in company with Newport, but had been dis- 
masted, driven to the West Indies, and detained there 
through the winter. She now brought the remainder 
of the colonists sent out under Newport's charge, the 
number in both ships being a hundred and twenty. 
She also brought stores for the colonists sufficient for 



THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 109. 

six months. She was discharged and reloaded with 
all possible despatch; taking in a cargo of cedar, 
which the joint and strenuous efforts of Smith, Scrive- 
ner, and their associates, aided by Nelson, secured 
for her, in opposition to the counsels and adherents of 
Martin, who would have loaded her with yellow mica. 
She left for her return on the 2d of June. During her 
stay certain events occurred which deserve notice. 

As Captain Smith was one day inspecting the out- 
of-door affairs of the colony, at some little distance 
from the fort, he caught a glimpse of two Indians 
skulking in the edge of the forest near him. 

u Ha ! the thieves again ! " 

He had hardly said the words before the Indians 
leaped from their cover, painted and armed as if on a 
war-path. They strode fiercely towards him, and 
appeared as if intending to make him their prisoner. 
The demonstration was not to be mistaken. Smith 
was alone, and without weapons. Throwing himself 
into an attitude which denoted both his fearlessness 
and his defiance, " Welcome, braves ! " said he with 
coolness. " I did think you were common thieves, 
sneaking about like cowardly women and weak boys. 
I was wrong. You are warriors, — wwcommon 
thieves. You would steal me, would you ? " 

" The white werowance must go with us." 

" Then take him " ; and Smith bent upon them a 
look which said more than his words. 

The men seemed awed, but advanced. Smith 
moved leisurely and warily towards the fort, keeping 
his eye full upon his assailants. They now seemed to 
take courage. One came upon him on one side, the 
other upon the other, brandishing their war-clubs, 
10 



110 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

and then running round and round him as if deter- 
mined to bring him to the ground ; or, as Smith after- 
wards described it, " circling about mee, as though 
the\ would have clubbed mee like a hare." But he 
steadily and composedly continued his way to the 
fort, so far overawing them that they dared not strike ; 
while they were so eager in their object, that they 
danced attendance upon his person, even within the 
palisades, and were joined by some sixteen others. 
Smith instantly ordered the gates to be closed. The 
whole number, surprised at a measure so utterly at 
variance with the late remissness of the garrison, were 
seized by the soldiers and imprisoned. Their asso- 
ciates without the fort respectfully opened a negotia- 
tion for their release. 

Smith replied : " Bring back all the swords, spades, 
shovels, and other tools which you have stolen from 
us, and your men shall go free. Otherwise, I will 
hang them." 

" We have just caught two of your men in the 
woods," was the retort, " and will treat them as you 
treat ours." 

li Will you, indeed ! Throw open the gates, men ! " 

He instantly sallied with his soldiers, whom of late 
he had kept under regular drill with special reference 
to Indian warfare ; and, though he shed no blood, 
so frightened the Indians without by his military 
array, that the two English truants were given up, 
and peace was implored without conditions. 

In this Smith was acting upon his own responsi- 
bility, contrary to the indolent temper of the Council, 
and the directions of the Company to give no offence to 
the natives. He had been compelled to do so, however, 



THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. Ill 

by the insufferable encroachments of the natives them- 
selves. Suddenly, and without apparent cause, they 
had commenced a regular system of thieving ; at first 
slyly, but soon with more and more boldness, until 
they had even ventured upon violent means. This 
was well known to the President and Council ; but 
they preferred safety and ease in their own houses, 
and had suffered the evil to grow without resenting it. 
Smith, though highly indignant at this state of things, 
had allowed them to take their own course until he 
was personally interfered with. One fellow whom he 
had briefly imprisoned for sword-stealing, afterwards 
attacked him, aided by three others, threatening his 
life. But he had made them smart for their audaci- 
ty ; and merely this one instance of rigorous treat- 
ment had caused a temporary suspension of thievish 
practice, and even a voluntary restoration of some 
articles which had been taken. But the depredations 
had soon been resumed, and with more boldness than 
before. 

The present assault upon his person Smith resolved 
to turn to account, and to prosecute the affair accord- 
ing to his own notions of wise policy, and after his 
own fashion. He would throw himself alone and un- 
authorized into the breach, rather than expose the 
colony to the loss of tools and arms, and, ultimately, 
to extinction. He proceeded, therefore, to deal with 
his prisoners as though supreme power had been vest- 
ed in himself alone. He transferred the Indians to 
the Phoenix, and there placed them in ward. Select- 
ing one of them, he removed him from his compan- 
ions to the hold of the vessel, accompanied by six 
soldiers with their muskets. In that gloomy place, 



112 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

lighted only by a solitary lantern, he established his 
court, assuming to himself the office of Grand In- 
quisitor. Without a word spoken, and with great 
solemnity, the culprit was bound securely to the 
mainmast. At a signal, the soldiers levelled their 
glittering muskets at his breast, and waited. The 
poor wretch quivered as he looked at those iron 
mouths and at the determined countenance of his 
judge. After an impressive pause, Smith addressed 
the offender. 

" Macanor ! you are a counsellor of Paspahegh," — 
one of Powhattan's tributary chiefs. " You therefore 
know something which I must know, or you die." 

" Macanor does not fear to die." 

" Then — " the sentence ended by a look at the 
muskets. 

" But — " 

" But what ? Speak quickly." 

" Macanor would die under the blue sky and in battle." 

" No words. Answer me, or die here." 

" What would the white chief know ? " 

" Why do Powhattan's subjects steal my swords 
and the tools of my men ? " 

" Because he orders it." 

" What has been done with them ? " 

" All have been given to Powhattan." 

« Why does he order them to be stolen, if he is my 
friend ? " 

" The English werowance has offended Pow- 
hattan." 

" How ? " 

" When your father [Newport] went away to his 
country, Powhattan sent him a present of twenty 



THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 113 

turkeys, for which he received twenty swords. He 
sent turkeys to you, and you gave him no swords." 

" Did 1 send him nothing ? " 

u Jewels and other pleasant things, such as you 
chose, but not what he chose. Powhattan wanted 
swords." 

" For what ? " 

After a moment's hesitation, the Indian answered 
in a stammering way : " To fight his enemies, the 
Monacans." 

Smith saw that this was an invention to mask the 
truth, and replied sternly : " Macanor ! I have not 
brought you here to tell me lies. I will have the 
truth, or — " pointing to his soldiers. " I am no 
woman, Macanor, to be fooled with. Answer me 
the truth, Why does Powhattan want the swords of 
the English ? " 

" Because they are better than war-clubs." 

" And because he would kill us with them ? " 

No answer. 

" I see, Macanor, that you choose to die in this 
dark hole, like a dog, and to be thrown to the fishes." 

" Because — " 

" Silence, Macanor ! I ask you no more questions. 
Tell me all you know about Powhattan's plots. Tell 
me straight along, or you die where you stand ! Speak 
or not, as you will." 

Macanor chose wisely ; although Smith had no 
intention of taking life. He now stated rapidly, but 
distinctly, that Powhattan and all his chiefs had long 
arranged a plan for the destruction of the English ; 
that this had been done before Smith's capture, which 
was a part of the scheme ; that nothing but their 
10* 



114 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

dread of his supernatural powers, and the interference 
of Pocahontas, had saved his life ; that Powhattan, 
conscious of his inability to cope with English weap- 
ons, was anxious to obtain them and use them against 
their owners ; that Powhattan and all his chiefs had 
agreed to pretend friendship with the English until 
the return of Newport, who was then to be enticed to 
a feast and slain, while other parties of the English 
were to be enticed in other directions to meet the 
same fate. 

" That is all, I suppose, Macanor ? " 

" It is all." 

" You have done well to save your life, and shall 
soon go free." 

Macanor was unbound, and taken to an apartment 
by himself ; and a volley of musketry was fired from 
the deck, to intimidate the other prisoners, who could 
hear, but not see. They were then led in their turn, 
one by one, to the hold, and underwent a like exam- 
ination. By some of them, the statement of Macanor 
respecting the conspiracy was confirmed, and all 
agreed in saying that Powhattan received the tools 
and swords. 

" These fellows have made an important confession, 
Mr. Scrivener," said Captain Smith, after narrating 
what had just transpired on shipboard. 

" Thanks to your shrewdness and resolution, Cap- 
tain. But what shall we do with them now ? " 

" Keep them for a while." 

" Radcliffe and his friends are already clamoring at 
what we have done." 

" Mr. Scrivener, so long as the President sees no 
present danger, or other emergency, he is full of com- 



THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 115 

plaints about me. But the moment trouble comes, 
he cries, ' Where is Captain Smith ? ' or, < Captain 
Smith, do see to this business.' So it will be now, 
when he finds that he would doubtless have had his 
throat cut, or his brains clubbed, or his scalp taken, 
but for the course I have pursued. Yet he will make 
it a matter of complaint against me in England. 
However, that is neither here nor there. If he will 
not protect the colony, we must." 

" Why would you detain these men ? " 

" It may excite some salutary fear in Powhattan. 
At least, it will show him that we are no longer to be 
wronged with impunity." 

The next day Scrivener entered Captain Smith's 
apartment, saying : "You were right, sir ; Pow- 
hattan has sent to ask grace." 

" So soon ! What grace ? " 

" That his men be set at liberty. He says he is 
your very good friend, and hopes you will overlook 
the wrong which some of his rash and disorderly cap- 
tains have done in instigating their men to theft, and 
begs your acceptance of a few turkeys, as a token of 
his love." 

" Very affectionate, and very innocent ! He did 
not send to Eadcliffe ? " 

" No, sir ; his greetings are expressly and only to 
his dear friend Captain Smith, and — he honors me 
by the association — Mr. Scrivener. Who do you 
think is his messenger ? " 

"Rawhunt? The fellow is a natural diplomatist, 
— a heathen Jesuit ; ugly as sin in face and form, 
but oily of speech as the great Tempter." 

" You are mistaken, sir. He has sent the English 



116 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

lad whom Captain Newport gave him, — Thomas 
Salvage." 

" Ha ! The cunning old chief either intended a 
compliment, or thought he had sent a messenger 
whom we should be sure to return. Would it not 
be well, Mr. Scrivener, to spurn the compliment and 
keep the lad ? Suppose we lock him up, sir ? " 

" A significant way of showing defiance." 

" Please put him under guard, then ; and the tur- 
keys, too, Mr. Scrivener." 

Less than twenty-four hours had elapsed, when a 
private conference of the two gentlemen was inter- 
rupted by a soldier, who announced another embassy 
from Powhattan, and at the same moment introduced 
the ill-visaged and deformed Rawhunt and the beau- 
tiful Pocahontas. The maiden entered in her usual 
quiet and confiding way, coaxing along a little cosset 
deer which seemed shy of entering so strange a place. 

" I have brought you a friend of mine, Captain 
Smith," said she, frankly extending one hand while 
she patted her pet with the other. " See how tame 
she is. There ! she nibbles out of my hand, — see ! " 
looking up in his face. " You may call her Poca- 
hontas." 

Captain Smith had a gloomy and care-worn brow 
before she entered, and so had Scrivener. But every 
shadow disappeared when they saw this light-hearted 
and artless child. 

" Thank you," said Smith, taking her by the hand. 
" But there is only one Pocahontas." 

" Only one real one. But you could call this one 
Pocahontas, in play you know ; and that would make 
you think of the real one — away." 



THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 117 

" You would like to have me call it so ? " 

" Yes." 

" Then I will, to please you ; but I can think of 
you without." 

"O, I know you could; but then* not so often. 
Now, when I go out in the evening, and look up 
through the trees and see the stars, I think of you, 
when I should n't perhaps if it were not for the stars." 

" But the stars, — how do they make you think 
of me ? " 

" Why, when I see them, how can I help thinking 
of Captain Smith's God, who put them there ? And 
do you suppose I don't think of Captain Smith then ? 
Now, if you say to this little creature, ' Pocahontas ! ' 
and she looks up in your face, — there ! see her, see 
her now, Captain Smith ! — then do you suppose 
you won't think of the other Pocahontas ? Be- 
sides — " 

" Captain Smith," interrupted Rawhunt, with an 
impatient gesture, " that deer is a present to you from 
Powhattan. I know not why his daughter — " 

Smith's zmgracious look interrupted and somewhat 
disconcerted Rawhunt, but not so much as the look 
of the maiden. The bright light of her countenance 
and the unstudied ease of her attitude were gone. 
The child stood up an offended princess ; the warrior 
shrunk to a culprit. She said nothing, but the amaze- 
ment and rebuke expressed in her large, dark eye and 
erect form were enough. Rawhunt, by the slightest 
sign, indicated a sense of his fault, and it received no 
further notice. 

" Besides," resumed Pocahontas, as though she had 
not been interrupted, " the little creature will remind 



118 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

you of Powhattan, for he sent it and me to you as 
signs of his love ; and my men here have brought 
you a store of bread also from him. Accept all in 
kindness, and believe me," she added, earnestly, " my 
father is your* friend. Those who have stolen your 
weapons he will punish." 

" The little daughter of Powhattan is a peace- 
maker," said Smith, turning to Scrivener. 

" He who made the stars," he replied, addressing 
the maiden, with a look of intense interest, — " He 
who made the stars said, * Happy are the peace- 
makers ! ' " 

" Happy ! yes, Pocahontas will be happy if she 
make peace. Captain Smith's God said true. Pow- 
hattan's men have done wrong ; but he asks that you 
would let them go free." 

Smith gravely shook his head. 

Pocahontas turned to Scrivener, as if asking his in- 
tercession ; for she knew that he was Smith's friend, 
and that both were the chief men of the English. But 
Scrivener held his peace. After a moment's pause, 
Pocahontas gently laid her hand upon Smith's arm, 
and looked earnestly in his eye, saying : " Have you 
not told me that what your God says is good ? " 

» Yes." 

" And that we should mind him ? " 

" Yes." 

" You told me something — what was it ? — that 
He says we must say about wicked folks. It was — 
it was — I don't think now ; but it was in Our 
Father." 

Smith was a little disturbed; but he readily and 
gravely replied : " It is not because your father's sub- 



THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 119 

jects have trespassed against me that I do not forgive 
them, but because they do wrong to my brothers the 
English." 

" Yes, forgive, — that is it. I thought — I thought 
we ought to forgive those who do wrong. But Poca- 
hontas will learn. Rawhunt ! speak your message." 

" Powhattan bids me say," said the warrior, " that 
the wrongs which have been done to your people 
have not been done at his bidding, but by the orders 
of some of his captains who are unruly. He asks 
that you would therefore excuse him for the injuries, 
and let his subjects go, who did but obey their chiefs. 
Powhattan would not send to you the child whom he 
most loves, did he not love you. Let his men go 
free, and he will always love." 

" Yes, he will," interposed Pocahontas. " But you 
will send him the English boy again, — will you not? 
Powhattan loves him very much," — and her eyes 
moistened as she looked up. 

" Powhattan is a — It is too late for Powhattan 
to think of— » 

Captain Smith spoke in an excited tone ; but as 
he saw those tearful eyes, he checked himself, hesi- 
tated, stopped, and then recommenced, saying calmly : 
" Mr. Scrivener, we can think of this matter ; and 
Powhattan's daughter shall be gratified, if it can be." 

" The chief Opechancanough ! " said a soldier, en- 
tering the room. 

The stately king of Pamunkey advanced with 
great respect, and entered his plea ; assuring the two 
gentlemen of his sincere friendship, and utterly dis- 
avowing all connivance with the injuries done to the 
English. He added, that some of the prisoners were 



120 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

his friends and subjects, and earnestly entreated their 
liberty. 

" The request of Opechancanough is heard," said 
Smith, coldly ; and adding, with marked significance, 
" it will not be forgotten." 

When the chief had gone, Captain Smith took 
" the king's dearest daughter " by the hand, and 
signing to Scrivener and u the most trustie messen- 
ger Rawhunt," he walked silently into the esplanade 
of the fort, where he gave orders that the prisoners 
should be conducted under guard to meet him and 
his company in the little church. This done, a pray- 
er was offered, — for what particular purpose does 
not appear. Captain Smith then addressed those 
who were present, saying : — 

" These men, the subjects of Powhattan, are my 
prisoners. I seized them only because they were 
trying to seize me, and, probably, to take my life. 
They deserve punishment, perhaps death. Yet not 
a hair of their heads have I hurt. They are in my 
power. I can easily have them killed, that they 
trouble me no more. But I spare them. I let 
them go home to their wives and children. 

" It is not," turning to the prisoners, " because I 
fear to take your lives. It is not because you do not 
deserve flogging, or hanging, or both. It is not be- 
cause the king of Pamunkey has desired me to let 
you go, nor because Powhattan has desired it, but 
because the dear daughter of Powhattan has desired 
it. I give you to her. I owe Powhattan nothing. 
I owe Opechancanough nothing. I owe to Poca- 
hontas my life. 

" How can I refuse you," dropping his stern tone 



THE YOUNG AMBASSADRESS. 121 

for one of manly tenderness as he took the hand of 
Pocahontas, — " how can I refuse the preserver of my 
life ? Take them, my child. They are yours. You 
can give them to Powhattan if you choose, but I give 
them only to you. When your father's subjects cease 
to molest us, they will find that they have no better 
friend than Captain Smith." 

The little maid looked her gratitude and thanks as 
he spoke, and followed, with a step expressive of 
childlike joy, as he led her through the door of the 
church to the gate of the fort. Here the bows, ar- 
rows, and other effects of the prisoners, were restored 
to them ; and they themselves were formally deliv- 
ered, with other suitable gifts, to u the king's dearest 
daughter," who led them, with a happy face and a 
bounding heart, to Werowocomoco. 

Scrivener alluded to Smith's unfinished invective 
against Powhattan, with which he had begun to reply 
to Rawhunt's address. 

" For my life," was his answer, " I would not be 
the one needlessly to expose a father's dishonor to a 
trustful and loving child. The man who could wan- 
tonly do it would deserve eternal execration. The 
child does not yet suspect her father's treachery and 
lies ; and when the veil is torn away from the eyes of 
a creature so pure-minded and noble-hearted as she, 
God forbid that mine should be the hand to do it." 

The internal affairs of the colony demanded vigi- 
lance and correction no less than their external. The 
Indian offenders had no sooner been dismissed, than it 
became necessary to discipline the faction of RadclifTe 
and Martin. These unprincipled men, like the former 
President, Wingfield, had indulged their own palates 
11 



122 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

at the expense of the workingmen and invalids of the 
colony. They had put lock and key upon the public 
stores, serving their own tables bountifully, and deal- 
ing out to the sick and hungry their daily sustenance 
only in return for so much value received. Such was 
their infamous conduct before the arrival of Nelson, 
and such it continued to be. The evil had become 
intolerable. Smith and Scrivener now took vigorous 
measures against it, and did not rest until they had 
wrenched the keys of the public stock from these rapa- 
cious and shameless men, and forced them to their 
own proper proportion and quality of food. 

Thus there were the planting of corn, the rebuild- 
ing of their hamlet, the discipline of the Indians, the 
enforcement of common decency and common hones- 
ty upon Radcliffe, and the reloading of the Phoenix, 
all upon the hands of Smith and Scrivener at once. 
These things accomplished, Smith embarked, with fif- 
teen men, in a barge of between two and three tons 
burden, to explore "the Mother of Waters," the 
Chesapeake. He dropped down the river in company 
with the Phoenix, which sailed on the 2d day of June, 
1608. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE CORONATION. — GENTLEMEN AT WORK 

There was always trouble in Jamestown when 
John Smith was away. He found it so when he re- 
turned on the 21st of July. All those who had been 
left by Nelson were sick ; and sick and well were full 
of wrath against the President, and ready for mutiny. 
He had again seized upon the public stores, again 
embezzled and wasted them in riotous indulgence ; 
had been guilty of cruelty in his administration ; and 
had tasked the colonists in building a house for his 
personal comfort, in the woods, where he might live 
undisturbed by the sufferings and complaints of others. 
The hearts of the colonists revived at the appearance 
of Smith ; and the violence of their rage was so far 
subdued by the supplies which he brought, and by his 
personal influence, that they were content with hav- 
ing RadclifFe merely deposed from office. But upon 
this they clamorously insisted ; and also that Smith 
should be instated in his place, for he was the only 
man among them who could keep the settlement in 
order. He was bent upon further exploration ; and 
again left for that purpose on the 24th, appointing 
Mr. Scrivener as his deputy during his absence, which 
was protracted until the 7th of September. 

During these two excursions, the whole of the 
Chesapeake Bay had been explored, on either shore, 






124 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

to the mouth of the Susquehannah ; the principal riv- 
ers, the Poconoke, the Patuxent, the Patapsco, the 
Rappahannock, the Piankatunk, the Elizabeth, and 
the Nansemond, had been penetrated as far as circum- 
stances would allow ; intercourse had been opened 
with various tribes ; provisions had been purchased, 
or procured as amends for unprovoked hostilities ; 
dangerous storms on the water, intense heat, and sick- 
ness had been encountered; a weary, disheartened, 
refractory crew had been soothed, encouraged, re- 
strained, and stimulated ; many privations and suffer- 
ings had been endured ; an excellent map — still in 
existence — of the entire Chesapeake Bay had been 
constructed; more than three thousand miles had 
been traversed; and three months of time and toil 
had been expended. One man had died, and was 
buried on the shores of the Rappahannock. While at 
the mouth of this river, Captain Smith was struck on 
the wrist by the poisonous thorn of a fish called the 
stingray. Within four hours he was in a condition 
hopeless of life. He selected the spot for his own 
burial, and at his order his grave was dug by his men. 
But the application of an oil, and the probing of the 
wound, by Dr. Russell, one of the party, effected a 
sudden recovery. Smith ate of the fish for supper. 
The place where this occurred is to this day called 
Stingray Point, in commemoration of the event. 

Wherever Captain Smith was in command, God 
was recognized and acknowledged. By daily relig- 
ious services, he kept alive in his own mind, and in 
tne minds of his men, a sense of dependence upon 
Divine protection, and of obligation for Divine mer- 
cies. Thus, throughout this whole tour of exploration, 



THE CORONATION. 125 

wherever the wanderers sought their natural rest, they 
joined in the social worship of God. The silence of 
the wilderness was broken by the voice of then 
prayer, and the gloom of the forest by their hymn of 
praise. The wild men gathered around them, and 
listened with reverence ; for, though they did not un- 
derstand the words, they could comprehend the act, 
of devotion ; and they caught its spirit too, and some- 
times responded to the Christian's song by such sol- 
emn chants as they had learned in the great temple 
of Nature. 

There were many, just recovering from sickness, 
who crept feebly from their doors to welcome Smith 
at his return ; many who could only give him a fever- 
ish hand and a languid smile as he stood by their 
bedsides ; and many, who had bidden him God-speed 
when he went away, gave him no greeting now, for 
they lay unconscious and mute in their graves. 

Arrangements had been made at Smith's last de- 
parture for none but necessary labor in the colony 
during the heat of summer ; consequently nothing of 
importance had been effected except the gathering of 
the crop, under the direction of Mr. Scrivener. Rad- 
cliffe, however, had found his private station and his 
vulgar rations so irksome, that he had endeavored to 
raise a mutiny ; in consequence of which he was now 
still farther reduced, to the quarters and fare of a 
prison. 

Smith assumed the duties of his office as President 
on the 10th of the month, the third day after his 
return. He acted with his habitual vigor, erecting 
new buildings which were needed, repairing the old, 
strengthening and altering the fort, and regularly drill- 
11* 



126 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ing in military exercises all who were not incapaci- 
tated by sickness. 

Captain Newport now arrived, bringing a recruit to 
the colony of seventy persons ; two of whom were 
Englishwomen, — Mrs. Forrest, and Anne Burras, 
her maid. Two others were " ancient souldiers and 
valiant gentlemen, but yet ignorant of the businis," — 
Captain Richard Waldo and Captain "Wynne. They 
were appointed, and duly sworn in, as members of 
the Council. 

But Captain Newport also brought some silly things 
from the CounciHn England, who fancied themselves 
— under the advices of the very man who had loaded 
their ship with worthless dirt — competent to judge of 
all the wants, the resources, the capabilities, and the 
geography of an infant settlement in a boundless wil- 
derness three thousand miles away. First, there were 
a party of Germans and Poles, sent to manufacture 
pitch, tar, potash, and glass, in a community where 
one farmer would have been worth them all, and 
where every hand and muscle was needed to supply 
subsistence. Second, there was a barge, constructed 
in five parts, in which the colonists were ordered to 
proceed as far as possible up some river flowing into 
the Atlantic; thence to carry it piecemeal on their 
shoulders over the mountains, there put it together, 
get into it, and just float down the westerly flowing 
streams into the Pacific ! Third, there were a basin, 
a ewer, a bed, a bedstead, a chair of state, a suit of 
scarlet clothes, a cloak, and a croivn, for Powhattan ! 
Fourth, there was a special commission in Newport's 
pocket, authorizing him to act, in certain cases, inde- 
pendently of the Council, and requiring him to bring 



THE CORONATION. 127 

back either some certain information of the Pacific 
Ocean, or a lump of gold, or some one of the lost 
colony sent out by Sir Walter Raleigh, twenty-one 
years before!* 

Notwithstanding all the common-sense arguments 
which Smith urged against these preposterous schemes, 
the Council resolved to prosecute them. Indeed, com- 
mon sense had had very little to do with the whole 
colonial enterprise from its beginning. An insane 
passion for sudden wealth shaped the entire policy of 
the Company. When, however, the projects which 
Smith's judgment condemned and his soul loathed, 
as detrimental to the vital interests of the colony, 
were once determined upon, he did all in his power 
to forward their prosecution. 

The proud and wary Powhattan would not go to 
Jamestown to receive a crown, — not he ! — the crown 
might come to him ! Being himself a king, he would 
not fail in kingly courtesy to a peer. He would there- 
fore wait eight days at Werowocomoco to receive 
that which, as he was told, James of England had 
sent him. Newport, therefore, went, — Mahomet to 
the mountain, — and Powhattan was crowned ! The 
ceremony, too silly to be even laughable, does not 
deserve recital. It had two evil results, however, both 
of which Smith foresaw, and the latter of which he 
predicted, — it gratified the vanity of Newport, as 



* A colony of a hundred persons had been left on the island of Ro- 
anoke, by Captain White, under the auspices of Sir Walter Raleigh, in 
1587, and were never heard of afterwards. One of their number, Eleanor 
Dare, "gave birth to a female child, the first offspring of English parents 
on the soil of the United States. The infant was named, from the place 
of its birth, Virginia Dare." 



128 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

master of ceremonies, and inflated Powhattan with 
the idea that he was of great consequence in the esti- 
mation of the English. 

Newport now went to find corn, gold, Raleigh's 
colonists, and the Pacific ! He took a hundred and 
twenty men, a pinnace, and all the boats but one, 
which, with eighty or ninety men, he left with Smith 
to serve the fort and load the vessel. He went u thir- 
tie myles" above the Falls. Thence, three whole 
days of land travel, and yet found no corn, no gold, 
no Englishmen, and no ocean ! He brought back his 
men, however, " halfe sicke, all complayning and tyred 
with toyle, famine, and discontent." This also agreed 
with what Smith had predicted. 

Close upon the river's bank, about five miles below 
the settlement, the forest was ringing with the sounds 
of cheerful industry. The Anglo-Saxon, with his in- 
domitable enterprise, was there, humbling the princes 
of the woods. Huge pines which had stood, and 
towered toward heaven, and buffeted tempests, and 
given shelter to the eagle and her young, long, long 
before he was born, had confessed his power, and 
fallen crownless at his feet. The work was yet in 
progress. A dozen axes were chipping asunder trees 
still standing, while others were lopping the branches 
of the fallen. Thirty Englishmen were scattered here 
and there in groups ; some of them lustily at work, — 
some of them lolling wearily upon the ground ; 
some of them hardy, muscular men, accustomed to 
toil, — many of them evidently more familiar with the 
drawing-room and boudoir, than with the rough life 
of the wilderness. Near the water was a conical 



GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 129 

structure of boughs laid densely one over another, 
the extremity of each pointing downwards, and giv- 
ing shelter to various implements of labor. There 
were long two-handled saws, and huge mallets, and 
iron wedges, adzes, drawing-knives, &c, besides mus- 
kets and pistols and swords, two kettles, a gridiron, 
and other cooldng utensils. Near this wigwam a 
moderate fire was burning upon the ground, high over 
which was a stout horizontal pole, supported at either 
end by forked stakes, with a chain dangling from its 
centre. A young man sat against a tree within some 
twenty feet of the fire, his hands wrapped in bandages, 
and intent upon the motions of a companion, who was 
artistically feeling the edge of a large knife, his shirt- 
sleeves rolled to his shoulder, and his arms stained 
with blood. The latter had- certainly a very savage 
and murderous appearance, yet he was a very harm- 
less fellow. 

" You '11 do," said he, as he touched the edge for 
the last time with his thumb ; and, whistling a brisk 
march, he advanced to the carcass of a deer which 
hung from a neighboring tree, and cut from it several 
large slices of flesh with evident satisfaction. 

" That was a lucky shot of yours, Stimpson ! " said 
the young man upon the ground. " It spares you, 
the while, from swinging the axe." 

" Are n't yer a graceless fellow, Mr. Russel," said 
the other, pausing from his employment ; " thinkin' o' 
nothin' but restin' and eatin' ! " 

" Whew ! " exclaimed Russel, " how can you tell 
what a man thinks of before he tells you himself? " 

" By his looks and actions. There y' ve set all the 
time I 've been a takin' off this skin, a doin' nothin' 



130 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

under the sun but jest lookin' at yer hands and this 
ere deer. If that is n't as much as to say that yer 
thinkin' o' restin' and eatin', I should like to know ? " 

« Well, I was." 

" There, now, war n't I right ? " 

" No : you said I was thinking of nothing else" 

" An' I 'm a thinkin', Mr. Russel, that, instead o' 
scowlin' over yer blisters, yer oughter look bright and 
smart for feelin' that yer gettin' to be somethin' of a 
man. La! if I did n't see yer behind a tree three 
days gone a cryin'. And I 've seen yer sence a 
laughin' with yer axe a goin' when I knowed yer 
hands was a blister." 

" I donH scowl over my blisters, Stimpson," ex- 
claimed Russel with energy, and starting to his feet. 
" It was rather tough at first, but I glory in it now. 
By George! the Captain has made a man of me. 
Damn the rags ! " said he, tearing the bandages from 
his hands ; " I '11 do no more nursing." 

" Take care what yer say, Mr. Russel ! Two bad 
words in one sentence ; two cans of water for yer to- 
night!" 

« By Geo— " 

"Hist— st— st— " 

" Well, then ; with all solemnity and propriety of 
speech, let me say, that this way of keeping a man 
from swearing is the funniest that ever entered man's 
head. A punishment, and a d — a confounded dis- 
agreeable punishment too, and yet makes a man 
laugh. Captain Smith is a genius, an original, a none- 
such, decidedly. Think of his making a wood-chop- 
per of me ! and really making me like it too ! And of 
all things in this world, curing a man of swearing ! 



GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 131 

St, James said you can guide a ship with a rudder, 
and a horse with a bit, but that no man can tame the 
tongue ; but then that was before Captain Smith was 
born. Good by, Stimpson. Get me a good supper, 
man, for I 'm going to fell that tree." 

So saying, the young man walked up to where 
Captain Smith was briskly at work upon one side of 
a large tree, with a young "gentleman" who was 
pecking awkwardly but good-naturedly with his axe 
upon the opposite side. Smith was cheering his part- 
ner with some considerate words of encouragement, 
as young Russel drew near and stood eying the prog- 
ress of the work. Smith soon suspended his blows, 
and, turning about, said in a cheerful voice, " Well, 
Russel ! tired out ? " 

" No, sir," said the young man with a smile. " I 
have been resting a little while, and now I have come 
to ask for work." 

" That 's right, — that 's right, my man. But there 's 
work enough ; no need of asking, surely ! " 

" No, sir. But we have been here nearly a week, 
and there is one thing which I have not yet done, but 
should like to do it, sir, if you please." 

"Ah! what is it?" 

" I have never felled a tree." 

" And you would like to fell this, my man ? That 
you shall, indeed, and with all my heart," putting the 
axe into the young man's hand, with a look of grati- 
fication and approval which went to Russel's heart. 
" There is something in the sensation with which one 
brings down — But try it, try it, Russel : I cannot 
tell the thing in words." 

Russel gratefully took the axe, though it required a 



132 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

minute or two before he could adjust his sore and 
stiffened hands to the helve. Smith said a word com- 
mending his resoluteness, when he swung his tool 
with considerable skill and much energy into the 
scarp which Smith had made. The tree required 
some fifteen minutes more of cutting, and Russel per- 
sisted manfully until arrested by Smith. " Hold ! " 
said he. " Beadle, stand aside now ; let Russel finish 
it. Take the other side, Russel. This side is cut 
much beyond the centre ; of course the tree will fall 
this way. When it does fall, take yourself aside a rod 
or two, lest it should get foul upon the stump and 
strike you. Cut away ! " 

The huge trunk now began to quiver perceptibly 
under the strokes of the axeman, — more, — more, — 
more. And now it swayed and leaned. Under the 
next stroke, the strong fibre of the wood cracked, — 
but a little, though. At the next, it shivered into 
splinters across the whole face, and the tall trunk lay 
slowly and reluctantly over a little way, but stopped, 
as if determined not to yield. The yonng woodsman 
sprang from his position. Smith glanced upward, 
and saw the long limbs of the tree clinging to the 
arms of a neighbor for support. " Give it a little 
more top-weight, Russel. A few chips out, and it is 
done." 

The young man had hardly resumed his strokes, 
when the monster yielded with a groan which was 
heard far away, sunk faster and faster, tearing and 
crashing through the surrounding trees, till it fell with 
a thundering roar, and the ground quaked under the 
shock. Russel had traced the majestic descent of its 
proud head to the ground with awe ; and when the 



GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 133 

echo of its fall had subsided, he still stood, his axe 
poised, his eye fixed upon the prostrate giant which 
he had laid low, motionless and silent. 

" Well done, Russel ! " exclaimed the President ; 
" you have brought down one of the largest. How 
do you feel about it ? Proud ? " 

" Feel ? " exclaimed the young man, looking up as 
if waked from a trance. " Less than the least of all 
things ! " and he dropped his axe. There was strong 
emotion in his face, and his lip paled and quivered as 
he continued, in a husky voice: " Captain Smith, I 
never, never felt so little as at this moment. What 
power, what pride, what centuries, are there ! When 
it was toppling and falling, it gave me such an idea 
of strength and ruin, that I seem to myself nothing." 

" Young man ! " replied Smith, with impressive 
seriousness, " you have learned a lesson. You feel 
as I thought you would. But mark the difference. 
There is bulk ; here " — laying his hand upon Rus- 
sel's head — " is intellect. There is physical might ; 
but it is laid low by the mightier and immortal mind 
which you are. Let no spoiler bring you low." 

Although the sun was yet an hour above the hori- 
zon, the approach of evening was already perceptible 
beneath the shade of a primeval forest. The signal 
was now given to cease from labor, and the men left 
their various stations for the hut of boughs which has 
been mentioned. Some carried the garments which 
they had laid aside ; some, the tools with which they 
had been employed, and which they now carefully de- 
posited in their proper place. Then came the busi- 
ness of washing, which they had discovered was a 
great refreshment and a luxury. Their garments were 
12 



134 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

resumed, and they gathered near the fire, a talkative, 
cheerful, hearty set, resting with right good-will from 
their toil, and waiting with the workingman's appe- 
tite for supper. They dropped themselves upon the 
ground in groups, or alone, as chance or caprice di- 
rected. Some were joking of the odd mischances and 
blunders of the day ; some, gravely estimating the 
amount of clapboards already wrought out ; and some 
of the few solitary ones solacing themselves with an 
English song. This continued until Stirnpson, who 
appeared to act in the double capacity of cook and 
waiter, approached Captain Smith with washen face 
and hands, and presented him with the Book of 
Prayer. 

Every one now rose and stood uncovered, while the 
President read a short portion of Scripture, and all 
bowed the knee and made the responses as he recited 
the evening prayer for the day. A hymn was then 
sung, in which nearly every voice joined, and whose 
cheering inspiration every one seemed to feel. Then 
followed the evening meal, consisting of the venison 
which Stirnpson had chanced to bring down that 
morning, and the new maize of the season, boiled in 
the unbroken kernel, previously divested of its trans- 
parent cuticle by soaking in a weak ley. The meal 
was served in most rustic style, but devoured with 
the keenest relish. The brisk conversation with which 
the repast was enlivened gradually subsided ; and 
when at length every appetite was appeased, it ceased 
altogether, and the attention of every one was turned 
to Captain Smith, who held in his hand a paper. At 
the same time Stirnpson placed near him a bucket of 
clear, cold water fresh from a neighboring spring. 



GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 135 

The President cast his eyes gravely around the cir- 
cle. 

" There is no necessity of my reading the names 
upon this paper," he said: "the delinquents, I per- 
ceive, designate themselves." 

Twenty-eight heads turned quickly to survey their 
fellows. Two were bent towards the ground in 
slight confusion. 

" I am glad that it is so," continued Captain Smith ; 
"glad and thankful that men now blush for an of- 
fence against God in which no true gentleman will 
allow himself ; men, too, who a week ago would have 
resented a rebuke for their fault. I thank all of you 
who are here to-night chargeless of profanity during 
the day, for the self-control which you have so soon 
acquired. The expedient to which I have resorted 
for your improvement has served, as it was intended, 
rather as a reminder than as a punishment. I take to 
myself no credit, therefore, for your purer habits of 
speech. The victory — and it is really one — has 
been your own ; and again I thank you heartily. — 
Peperell ! Russel ! " 

The two men thus called took their station by the 
side of Stimpson. 

" Take your turn, Peperell ! " said the President. 

Peperell elevated his arm, while Stimpson dipped 
a can about the measure of a quart into the cool 
water of the bucket, saying to the President, " How 
many, sir ? " 

" Five ; I am sorry to say it," said Smith, as he 
looked upon the record in his hand. " The last five, 
or rather the five last, I hope." 

Stimpson raised his dripping can as high in the 



136 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

air as he could reach, while with the other hand he 
opened the ample sleeve of the culprit. Slowly and 
steadily he poured in the cold stream, which, flowing 
down to the shoulder, dispersed itself thence, and ap- 
peared trickling from different vents below. The man 
did not seem much moved by the application, though 
his countenance indicated a wholesome degree of 
mortification. But under the second he cringed ; 
and when the third, and fourth, and fifth followed in 
rapid succession, his contortions and grimaces, al- 
though he resolutely held his arm in position, had 
become so ludicrous, that the whole company were 
in an uproar. 

" I '11 be d — I hope, Captain Smith," said he, rub- 
bing his drenched arm, and with a slight chattering 
of his teeth, — "I hope, sir, that this will be the last. 
I '11 try, sir, by — I mean, I '11 try hard, sir." 

" I see you must try hard, Peperell ; the duty words 
seem to grow on your tongue. But you can keep 
them back, and you will; I know you will, my man. 
You will master yourself. — Russel ! " 

Poor Russel ! Captain Smith's last words beside the 
tree had impressed him deeply ; and he had fallen into 
so serious and thoughtful a mood, that the ordeal was 
peculiarly trying. He received, however, but two cans 
of water, for the two oaths charged to his account. 

The routine of the day was now over. Sentries 
were posted for the night. The men wrapped them- 
selves in cloaks or blankets, lay down in the open air 
upon their pallets of tender and fragrant pine boughs, 
with their muskets by their sides, and were soon in 
profound sleep. 

Such was Captain Smith's fashion of employing 



GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 137 

time and strength, instead of crowning savages, and 
ransacking a strange and trackless wilderness for lost 
men, gold, and the antipodes. In this his good sense 
is not more noticeable, than his skill and success in 
managing the crude, lawless, and hair-brained thirty 
whom he took from the fort to make clapboards in 
the woods. Many of them were " younger sons," 
effeminate, utter strangers to manual labor and to dis- 
cipline. But Smith — tempering the authority of the 
magistrate with the suavity of the gentleman, and 
with the spirit and style of a fellow-laborer, swinging 
the axe himself, and good-naturedly stimulating the 
tender-handed — had contrived to invest the hard la- 
bor of the forest with an air of romance which caught 
the fancy of all ; and in a few days he had brought 
his gentlemen to be efficient, and even merry-hearted 
workmen. Nothing, perhaps, was more remarkable in 
this young father of Virginia than this, — his famili- 
arity did not breed contempt. He mingled with his 
men in the woods as a friend ; he chatted and joked 
with them as a fellow ; yet all felt his intellectual and 
moral ascendency, — all deferred to him as a magis- 
trate. His original device against profaneness — a 
most singular combination of fun and punishment, of 
good-nature and grave authority — wrought like a 
charm upon men who would have been unmoved by 
homilies, and none the better for flogging or the 
bilboes. 

Returning to the fort, Captain Smith found it ne- 
cessary immediately to procure food. For this pur- 
pose, he went up the Chickahominy with two barges. 
But the Indians were now in no humor for trade. Be- 
ing thus compelled to work upon their fears, he told 

12* 



138 THE YOUTH OP THE OLD DOMINION. 

them that he had an old score to settle with them, 
— his own capture, and the murder of Robinson and 
Emry. This intimation, backed by men and muskets, 
brought them to terms, and they freighted both barges 
with provisions. 

When the question of prosecuting the schemes of 
Newport and the Company was before the Council, 
Newport pledged himself to obtain twenty tons of 
corn on his tour of discovery, and as much also from 
Powhattan in return for his coronation. Smith had 
expressed doubts that these expectations would be 
realized. On his tour, as has been stated, Newport 
obtained nothing ; from Powhattan he received four- 
teen bushels! These failures, in addition to that 
which took place when Newport was first overreached 
in trade by Powhattan, only demonstrated, at New- 
port's cost, the wisdom and sagacity of Smith, who 
now again appeared before Jamestown with supplies, 
which all needed and welcomed, but which no one 
else could obtain. All these occurrences so wrought 
upon Newport's spleen, that he plotted with Radcliffe, 
who of course owed Smith a grudge, to depose him 
from the Presidency, and even to exclude him from 
the fort, upon the bald pretence that he had left it 
without leave from the Council. But they had wrong- 
ly measured both themselves and him. The meshes 
of their toils were spiders' webs. In the words of the 
original narrative, " their homes were much too short." 
Smith was too strong in his own manliness, and too 
strong in the esteem and affection of most of the colo- 
nists, for such feeble-minded envy to contend with. 
He was full of indignation at this attempt, and was 
about to send the ship home without Newport, that 



VEXATIONS. 139 

he might know, by the experience of a year, the hard- 
ships and privations of colonial life. But Newport 
made suitable apology, and Smith was appeased, and 
forgave. 

It is hardly possible for us to award to Smith that 
meed of respect and admiration which is his due, 
because it is hardly possible for us to estimate the 
variety and weight of burdens which none could 
shoulder but himself, the hinderances which beset 
him, the enmity and rascality which balked his best 
endeavors. One thing is certain, however, — he never 
flagged under the most harassing annoyances. In 
addition to other difficulties, he was now contending 
against secret villany, which greatly hindered the 
mercantile prosperity of the Company. Newport 
and his sailors traded on their own account, through 
their private factors or accomplices in the settlement. 
These pilfered the tools, the powder, the shot, the 
pike-heads, and other vendible effects belonging to 
the Company, which they secretly exchanged " with 
the salvages for furres, baskets, mussanaks, young 
beasts, or such like " ; and these commodities they 
again " exchanged with the saylers for butter, cheese, 
beefe, porke, aqua vitas, beere," and other ship-stores 
of the Company, and which " they would fain was 
all sent them by their friends " in England. Thus, 
" though the Company got no furs from Virginia, yet 
the master [Newport] got so many by this indirect 
meanes as he confessed to have sold in England for 
thirty pounds." To such an extent was this pecula- 
tion carried, " that, within six or seaven weakes, of 
two or three hundred axes, chisels, hows [hoes], and 
pickaxes, scarce twentie could be found." Thus the 



140 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Company received no returns, save the avails of 
Smith's honest and indefatigable toil, and were at the 
same time freely swindled by their own servants. 
So completely was the ship stripped of her stores by 
this abominable traffic, that Smith, out of his meagre 
supplies, was obliged to furnish three hogsheads of 
corn to victual her homeward. The Company had 
reason to complain ; but they complained only of 
their faithful servant. Yet he would not desert their 
service, though he manfully and keenly retorted their 
complaints.* 

It was a relief when Newport was gone, although 
there were two hundred colonists to be fed, — eighty- 
nine of whom were lame and sick in consequence of 
his journey of discovery, — and they were reduced, 
after victualling the ship, to a pint of corn a day to 
a man. In addition to this, the new-comers were 
nearly all mere consumers, — fifty-six of the seventy 
being gentlemen, tradesmen, glass and potash makers, 
boys and women. Captain Smith sent home with 
Newport the late President, Radcliffe, " a poore coun- 
terfeited imposture now called Sicklemore, least the 
company [at Jamestown] should cut his throat." 

The slender harvest of the colonists had been seri- 
ously injured by imperfect shelter, and the favorable 
time for purchasing the newly gathered harvest of 
the Indians had been squandered by the moonshine 
adventures of Newport. In addition, it was evident 
that the Indians were unwilling to supply their wants. 
Under these circumstances, Captain Smith was seri- 



* Smith's letter to the Council in England is contained entire in 
Simms, and an abstract of it may be found in Hillard. 



VEXATIONS. 141 

ously apprehensive of famine, and now devoted his 
whole energies to avert it. He went upon repeated 
excursions, to purchase corn. They were successful 
only to a limited degree ; and only by resorting to 
threats, and even to some violence, after persuasion 
had been tried in vain. Powhattan had issued posi- 
tive orders to his subjects not to sell their corn to the 
English. Winter had set in. The ground was frozen 
hard, and covered with snow. Yet Smith and the 
men who accompanied him were obliged to sleep in 
the open woods. To keep themselves alive, they 
would clear away the snow, build a generous fire 
upon the spot, remove the embers, and thus provide 
a warm bed for a while. When the ground grew 
cold, they would wake up, make another fire, and 
have a warm bed again. Thus did they make shift 
for many a cold night ; yet they " were always in 
health, lusty, and fat." Notwithstanding hardships 
and ill success, Smith was not discouraged ; but he 
resolved, through the necessity of the case, upon an- 
other and bold expedient. 

About this time occurred the first English mar- 
riage in Virginia, — John Laydon with Anne Burras. 



CHAPTER 4 XI. 

THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. — SINGLE COMBATS. —PEACE.— 
ANARCHY. 

In one of the most spacious huts of the royal vil- 
lage of Werowocomoco, and but a short distance 
from the bank of the river, a party of nineteen Eng- 
lishmen were gathered around a generous fire on the 
morning of the 14th day of January, 1609. They 
had just partaken of a bounteous breakfast of veni- 
son, turkeys, and maize, which Powhattan had pro- 
vided with his usual liberality. The ground was 
covered with snow, and the ice extended nearly half 
a mile into the river, at less than musket-shot from 
which point lay the English pinnace and two barges, 
having on board twenty-eight men, in plain sight 
from the door of the hut. The snow-clad pine-tops 
had glistened but a little while under the rays of the 
sun, when the English finished their meal. They 
were all stout men, and stout-hearted too ; or they 
would not have volunteered as they had done to enter 
the lion's den, knowing that he thirsted for their 
blood. They all seemed in good spirits, except three 
or four drowsy ones who had kept the night-watch. 
It is almost needless to say that the whole party 
were armed, and that Captain Smith was one of 
their number. 

They had arrived on the 12th. The next day had 



THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 143 

been consumed in an unavailing talk between Smith 
and Powhattan, which consisted chiefly of reproaches 
on the part of the chief that his " friend " should have 
come with an armed retinue, and on the part of the 
other that his " friend " produced no corn, after hav- 
ing invited him thither under promise of a boat-load. 
Just before receiving the invitation, Smith had deter- 
mined upon the excursion for the purpose of attempt- 
ing the capture of Powhattan, as the only means of 
procuring food for the colony, and as a security for 
his own life. Powhattan had sent the invitation 
expressly for the purpose of compassing his death ; 
and of this Smith, in addition to what he knew before 
of Powhattan's general hostility and designs, had 
received positive information just after leaving James- 
town. The chief also had received positive infor- 
mation of Smith's purpose, through some traitorous 
Germans whom he had sent to build a house which 
his Indian " friend " had requested. Thus singu- 
larly were they situated, each knowing the hostile 
intent of the other, each supposing his own intent 
unknown, and each adopting the speech and cour- 
tesies of friends. 

" It is useless," said Smith, as his men gathered 
closer to the fire, " to dally longer with this suspicious 
old chief. We must do our best to seize him to-day, 
if we would save our people from starvation and our- 
selves from massacre." 

" We only await your orders, sir," said John Rus- 
sel. " Have you any plan of proceeding ? " 

" I see no chance for stratagem. Powhattan is too 
much upon his guard. He will soon be here for an- 
other talk. You only must remain with me, Mr. 



144 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Russel. The rest of you will now retire, and act 
under the directions of Sergeant Pising. You, Ser- 
geant, will station your men according to your dis- 
cretion, only at such a distance from the house as 
not to excite fear. In the course of an hour, set 
some of the Indians to breaking the ice, and signal 
to Lieutenant Percy to work the boats ashore. Then 
advance with all who can be spared, surround the hut, 
and we will take Powhattan away by force. In the 
mean time, I shall engage him in conversation." 

With the exception of Russel, the men now left, 
and soon after Powhattan made his appearance ; the 
two foes saluting each other with all show of con- 
fidence and good- will. The chief was accompanied 
by the " two handsome young women " who, for the 
time, enjoyed the honor of sitting by his side upon 
occasions of state. The conference of yesterday was 
soon resumed. Powhattan was strenuous on two 
points ; first, that he should have swords in exchange 
for corn ; second, that Smith should send all his arms 
on board the boats. It was only his own and his 
peoples' dread of English weapons which deterred 
him from attempting the life of his " friend " at any 
moment ; reasoning, as he justly did, that the vital- 
ity of the colony was centred in Smith. The latter 
affirmed that he had no swords to spare, and that the 
carrying of arms was as much a matter of course 
with his men, as with the Indians when they visited 
Jamestown. Powhattan urged that he could not 
persuade his people to bring corn, they were so afraid 
of guns, and insisted that the presence of armed men 
was a very dishonorable reflection upon his royal 
friendship. 



THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 145 

" Only get your guns and swords out of the way," 
said he, " and you shall have plenty of corn." 

u You might as well ask me to deprive myself and 
my men of our clothes," was the reply. " Besides, 
we never do harm with our weapons, except we re- 
ceive bad usage." 

" No one refuses to lie at my feet, or do what I 
demand, but you. I asked Captain Newport for 
swords, and he gave them to me. I asked him to 
send his guns out of sight, and he did it. And yet 
you, to whom I have been kinder than to any one, 
refuse me both ! " 

u Powhattan knows that I have but one God, and 
should also know that I have but one king. I pro- 
fess to be your friend, not your subject. Captain 
Newport may obey your orders, if he will ; but Cap- 
tain Smith cannot." 

" You call Captain Newport ' father,' and you call 
me 6 father ' ; but I see, in spite of us both, you will 
do what you will." 

" I do indeed call you < father ' ; but the small care 
you have of such a child has caused me to look well 
to myself." 

Many other words passed between the two, but all 
to the same effect. However, a bargain was made 
between them, by which Powhattan agreed to give 
eighty bushels of corn for a copper kettle which he 
greatly coveted. While this was going on, the break- 
ing of the ice and the movement of the boats became 
known to Powhattan, as was also the fact that his 
own men were in readiness to secure and murder 
Captain Smith. At the same time, Smith and Rus- 
sel were beguiled into conversation by the two young 

13 



146 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION, 

beauties, left there purposely to amuse them, who 
became suddenly agreeable upon the comparative 
merits of sky-blue beads and corn. A little time had 
been spent in this way, when Smith found to his 
alarm that they four were the only occupants of the 
hut, Powhattan having slipped quietly away. A 
glance through the door revealed that they were sur- 
rpunded by armed warriors, and that his own body- 
guard were operating near the shore for the advance 
of the boats. His countenance, even in its most 
composed state, had an unusual expression of martial 
severity and defiance ; but at this triple discovery it 
underwent a change which made the wood-nymphs 
scud. There was but a moment for action. The 
two men sprang at once upon " the naked devils " 
without. At the first shot, the foremost tumbled 
in heaps, and the rest fled in a panic, so that 
Smith and Russel readily made their way to their 
companions. 

After a little while there came " an ancient orator," 
bringing a great bracelet and a chain of pearls, which 
he presented to Captain Smith, saying, with an air 
of the greatest ingenuousness : " Powhattan sends 
these presents to assure you of his love. He has fled 
because he fears your guns, and because he knows 
you mean to bring more from your boats when the 
ice is broken. You was alarmed because his war- 
riors surrounded your house. But you was wrong. 
Our werowance placed them there for the love he 
bears you, that they might keep the wicked ones of 
our people from stealing the corn which he had given 
you. You have hurt some of them with your guns ; 
but Powhattan knows that the injury wiiich comes 



THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 147 

by mistake should not separate friends. Therefore 
he sends you greetings and presents, and messages 
of love. And now, see ! the ice is broken ; your 
boats can come to the shore. He wishes, therefore, 
that you would send your corn on board, and your 
guns too, if you desire his company." 

" When Powhattan was not with me," replied 
Captain Smith, " I supposed that his warriors in- 
tended mischief. How can I doubt his love ? Pow- 
hattan has the great heart of a great king, when he 
says that even bloody mistakes should not separate 
friends." 

" You see," said the orator, " that our people are 
bringing baskets for your corn. Let your men take 
it to your boats. I will set a guard over their guns 
while they do it," 

" See to your arms, men ! " exclaimed Smith ; and 
the men instantly made a movement which showed 
the ancient that they were ready to use them. 

" When we buy corn of Powhattan," continued 
Smith, "his servants should carry it to our boats. 
We will guard their arms while they do it." 

The " goodly well-proportioned fellows, grim as 
devils " — so the narrative, with odd inconsistency 
of words, styles them — instantly took the hint, laid 
down their bows and arrows, and bore the corn to 
the boats on their shoulders. 

By this time the tide had ebbed, and left the barges 
aground, so that Smith and his guard were persuaded 
to return to their quarters. The Indians were all 
complaisance and hospitality. They spared no pains 
to promote the comfort and pleasure of the English. 
Out of doors there were such sports as the season 



148 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

permitted, and the ample building occupied by the 
guests was a scene of varied and unrestrained hilar- 
ity. The females joined merrily in the dance, and 
performed well their part to allay the jealousies and 
secure the confidence of the strangers. Thus passed 
the day. 

The sun went down. The fire glowed and crackled, 
and gave out its cheerful light and its cheering influ- 
ence, as generous winter-fires always do. Sounds of 
unwonted glee came from the neighboring wigwams, 
where the youth of both sexes were making merry ; 
a few " well-proportioned devils " mingled with the 
English in frank and easy fellowship ; black-eyed 
coquettes, with flowing tresses and furs negligently 
adjusted, glided around the fire, practising glances 
and smiles and attitudes upon their guests, while 
their more shy and unpractised companions huddled 
near the door, — some shaking the fresh snow from 
their moccasons, some just retreating to tell what 
they had seen. Every human face and sound 
betokened unbounded and unsuspicious friendship 
on the part of the Indians, and contentment on 
the part of the whites. But the wind whistled 
through the crevices of the hut, and surged dole- 
fully through the pine and the cypress of the forest. 
Neither moon nor stars were to be seen, for the 
sky was overspread with clouds. It was a dark, 
dark night, — as dark as it can be when the ground 
is sheeted with snow. 

Captain Smith's attention was attracted to a little 
maiden, one of the group gathered about the entrance. 
She was noticeable for being so much younger than 
the rest, — apparently not more than six or eight 



THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 149 

years of age, — but particularly for the earnest and 
meaning way in which she persistently followed 
Smith with her eyes wherever he moved. Perceiv- 
ing this, he improved a leisure moment to beckon to 
her, holding in his hand a little toy as a lure. The 
child instantly, but timidly, approached ; and, as she 
received the bawble, adroitly slipped into his hand a 
little ornament of glass, saying, " Let the white chief 
come to the old oak." Then, apparently engrossed 
with her toy, she ran back to the doorway, lingered a 
moment in the throng, folded her scant mantle of fur 
over her bosom, and disappeared. Smith held in 
his hand the only ornament of the kind — a simple 
brooch — which he had given among the savages, 
and knew it to be a token from Pocahontas. The 
token, the message, the singular manner in which 
each was delivered, excited his alarm. It was evi- 
dent that some exigency demanded his immediate 
and cautious attention. The difficulty was to escape 
from the building unobserved. To pass by the door 
was out of question. Fortunately, upon one side of 
the hut was an aperture, about half the height of a 
man, serving as a window whenever occasion might 
require. It was now closed by matting and skins, 
and the glare of the fire-light was full upon it. Cap- 
tain Smith immediately communicated with Russel, 
by whose assistance a few of his men were arranged 
to screen the window while he made his exit and 
until his return. Making his way through the dark- 
ness, with his hand upon his pistol, he soon reached 
an oak, remarkable for its position and age, at a little 
distance in the rear of the hut. 

" Captain Smith ! " whispered a tremulous voice ; 



13 



150 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

and he could just discern a small figure gliding from 
behind the tree. 

" Pocahontas ! is it possible ! " 

The maiden made no reply; but, clinging to his 
arm in an imploring attitude, burst into tears. 

" Speak, child ! Tell me, are you in trouble ? " 

But she only clung the closer to him, trembling 
like a frighted bird, and sobbing as though her heart 
would break. 

" There, there, my dear one ! " as he spread his short 
mantle upon the snow. He gently seated her upon 
it by his side, and, supporting her as if she had been 
his own child, he continued : u Take your own time 
to tell me ; but be sure nothing shall harm you now. 
Poor, trembling thing! Be quiet now, if you can. 
You are safe, child ; you are safe. Who has dared 
to fright you so ? Dear child, you have done right to 
come to me. You knew I would protect you. Yes, 
yes, that was right " ; and he wiped away her tears, 
as she looked up and tried in vain to speak. 

So she sobbed upon his shoulder again for a min- 
ute, until she became somewhat composed, when she 
grasped his hand and exclaimed : " Fly, fly, Captain 
Smith ! you must fly. They will kill you ! " 

" Me ! O, it is for me, is it, — not yourself ? " 

u O no, no, no ! not myself ! They will kill you ! " 

" But who, child ? " 

" Powhattan ! " and again she fell to weeping bit- 
terly. 

" Well, do not weep." 

" Not weep ! not weep ! " recovering by a great 
effort, " when my — my — own — father sets a snare 
for one whom he calls ' friend ' ! Not weep, when he 



THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 151 

is coming with his warriors to take your life ! "Would 
you have Pocahontas laugh at the treachery of — of — 
him ? Would you have her dance when they are 
shaking the English hatchet over your head ? Is 
Pocahontas a wolf ? " 

u Powhattan has not deceived me," replied Smith, 
hoping to assuage her grief. But when she pressed 
him, he was obliged to confess his meaning to be 
merely that the chiefs hypocrisy had been discovered. 

" But," he continued, " there is no danger. I am 
on my guard. Powhattan tried to kill me to-day ; 
but I took care of myself." 

" To-day ! tried ! " exclaimed Pocahontas. 

Smith began to narrate the attempt of the morn- 
ing ; but she interrupted him, saying vehemently : 
" Enough, enough ! I do not wish to know. Besides, 
there is no time to spare. There is a great plot 
against you to-night, and you must fly." 

" Well, child, what is the plot ? and why must I 
flee ? " 

" Oh ! " said she, bitterly, and overlooking his ques- 
tion for the moment, " if he had only said, ' We are 
enemies ; we will go to war ' ! But to say, ' My dear 
friend ! ' to say, ' I love Captain Smith ! ' when all 
the time — But you must go away quickly, — 
quickly ! " 

" But the plot, what is it ? " 

" O yes, the plot ! Powhattan will pretty soon 
send you a great feast. His men will be large, strong 
men, and will pretend to be your loving friends ; and 
then, when you are eating, and thinking no harm, 
they are to seize your guns and swords, and kill 
you all." 



152 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" We will take care of that." 

" But," she continued, not heeding the interrup- 
tion, " if they cannot, Powhattan will come with all 
his great warriors, and then they will kill. This is 
the plot, and I beg you to go away." 

" Now that my little preserver has told me, I shall 
take care. Did you come from where Powhattan and 
his warriors are ? " 

" Yes. I overheard him tell them just before the 
sun went down ; and as soon as it was dark I came." 

" And have but just come ? " 

" A little while ago." 

" You have been all this while on the way ? " 

" Pocahontas did run," said the child, in her sim- 
plicity, not perceiving that Smith only wished to 
judge of the distance. 

" Alone ? " 

" Yes, alone. I dared not have any one." 

" So far, — so cold, — so dark, — and alone ! " 
exclaimed Smith. " Why did you not send ? " 

" No one would dare to come. Powhattan would 
kill any one who should tell you." 

" But you did send some one to me," giving her 
the brooch. 

" Yes. But she belongs here, and did not know 
me in the dark ; nor did she know why I would see 
you." 

" And so, because Powhattan would not kill you, 
you came yourself ? " 

" Tf he knows, he will." 

" Will kill his dearest daughter ? " 

« Yes." 

" Good God ! " exclaimed Smith, in English, " bless 
her ! O bless this child ! " 



THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 1.53 

" I hear you say, ' God.' " 

" Yes ; I asked my God to bless you." 

" Did you ? How land you are ! But please pray 
him one thing more." 

" What ? " 

" To bless Powhattan too." 

The broad, manly chest of the soldier heaved as he 
clasped the child in his arms, and said,~with a quiver 
on his lip : " Pocahontas, I will ! I do ! " 

He. then expressed his sense of her heroic self-devo- 
tion, — an expression which more than repaid her, — 
and would have pressed upon her acceptance some 
few ornaments which he had ; but she refused, say- 
ing that they would betray her if they should be seen, 
and " then she were but dead." She urged him to 
hasten his flight ; repeating, with great emphasis, 
that he had no time to lose. They then exchanged 
farewells, and she gathered her furs around her to go. 
Suddenly she turned toward Smith, and, looking up 
earnestly in his face, said : " Will Captain Smith's 
God let Pocahontas pray ? " 

" Yes, yes ! " he quickly answered, and the tears 
started in his eyes. u Yes, yes, Pocahontas ! He 
says, ' Suffer little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not.' " 

" Does he ? Red children ? " 

" Yes, yes ! " and he folded both her little hands 
in his. 

" Then Pocahontas will pray him." 

" Do, do, my child ! He ivill hear you." 

" And will do for me ? " 

« Yes." 

" Then I will pray him to bless me, and you, and 



154 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Powhattan " ; and she ran away by herself in the 
darkness, as she came. 

Thus does Divine Mercy make its servants its 
beneficiaries. God prompted the pagan child to 
perform his purposes of deliverance. The service 
was rendered with a cheerful heart. It was her first 
lesson in the book of the knowledge of God. As 
she went on* his errands to the strangers, she was 
on her way to the One Fold to which she was a 
stranger. They were her first steps toward the 
Good Shepherd, who was thus drawing her to him- 
self ; and who, before long, folded her in his arms 
and carried her in his bosom, — her priceless and 
eternal reward for childhood's labor of love. 

Again invoking the blessing of God upon the 
heroic protectress of his life, Smith thoughtfully 
returned to his companions. 

The facts were as Pocahontas had stated. The 
feast was provided, but the plan was foiled. All 
night long Powhattan, by means of successive spies, 
sought opportunity to attack the English with his 
whole force ; but at no moment could he venture, 
for at no moment could he find them off their guard. 

At flood tide in the morning the English departed, 
receiving and rendering back all the outward cour- 
tesies of friendship. They turned their boats up the 
river to Pamunkey, the residence of Opechancanough. 
The same hypocrisy and the same hostility awaited 
them there ; for Powhattan, exasperated by his own 
failure, had instantly issued orders to all his subjects 
to kill Smith. They were received with all hospi- 
tality. Upon a day appointed for the sale and pur- 
chase of corn, Smith, with fifteen men, met Opechan- 



SINGLE COMBATS. 155 

canough at his dwelling, in presence of forty or fifty 
of his warriors. While the two principals were 
conversing, Mr. Russel suddenly gave the startling 
intelligence that the house was surrounded by seven 
hundred armed savages. Smith's men were brave, 
and had volunteered upon a service which they knew 
to be full of danger; but at this news their hearts 
shrank within them. Perceiving its effect, Smith 
with a composed voice addressed a few words to 
them in English, which revived their natural cour- 
age, and they promptly signified that they were 
ready to obey him to the death. He then turned 
boldly to the chief. 

" Opechancanough ! you need not think that I am 
blind. With all your craft, you have not enough to 
cover a snare so cunningly that I cannot see it. Do 
I not know what you are about? You intend to 
murder me. Do it, if you can. You shall have a 
fair chance. You see that island. Now let each of 
your men around the house bring a basket of corn. 
For each basket I will lay down its value in copper. 
The copper and the corn, your men and mine, shall 
be the stake between us. Go now with me alone 
to the island. Take what weapons you please. I will 
strip as naked as yourself. There we will fight. The 
conqueror shall be owner of the goods and ruler of 
the men. What say you ? Will you go ? " 

" Why should the werowance of the English think 
Opechancanough his enemy ? It is a lie which the 
evil spirit has put in your heart. Why should ice 
fight ? I do not wish your blood, and shall not fight. 
I am your friend. Have I not already at the door 
a great present for you ? I have. Come and see. 
Then you will have proof of my love." 



156 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

He had a great present at the door for his guest, — 
two hundred arrows upon the bow-strings of archers 
in ambush. Of this Smith was not aware ; but of 
the chiefs murderous intention he was sufficiently 
certain. His resolution was instantly taken, for his 
blood was up. Opechancanough was much the taller 
and the stouter man, and his warrior attendants were 
ranged on either side of him. Smith ran his eye from 
his coronet of feathers to his beaded moecason, and 
again from moecason to coronet, bounded upon him 
like a panther, seized his tufted hair, dragged him at 
a stride from the midst of his body-guard, and pre- 
sented a pistol at his breast. Holding back the 
chiefs head by its scalp-lock, he looked terribly in 
his face for an instant, and then gave vent to his 
wrath : " Lie me no lies, you rascal ! Come along ! " 

So saying, he dragged him to the door of the hat, 
and in that humiliating position held him in the gaze 
of his people. Struck with horror at such a sacrilege 
upon the person of their king, and with awe of the 
man who had dared it, they instantly threw aside 
their weapons. 

" Pamunkeys ! " exclaimed Smith, " I once made a 
vow to be your friend till you should force me to be 
your enemy. 1 have kept it ; and because I am 
peaceable, you seek to kill me. But draw one drop 
of blood from me or my men, or steal from me a 
bead or a bit of copper, and I will not cease to bleed 
you so long as there is a Pamunkey vein to bleed. I 
am not in a Chickahominy mud-hole to-day. You 
have promised to load my boat with corn. Load, or 
I will load it with your carcasses. Still, if you prefer 
to trade as friends, and your ldng here prefers it, so 



SINGLE COMBATS. 157 

be it. In that case he shall be free ; for I come 
neither to hurt you or him. Take your choice." 

They made a discreet choice, and brought supplies 
with alacrity and in abundance ; upon which their 
king was released. Yet not three hours afterwards 
an attempt was made upon Smith's life by fifty 
select warriors at once, as he was sleeping alone, 
overcome with fatigue. Roused by then: too pre- 
cipitate movement, and but half awake, " he betooke 
him straight to his sword and target," and, with the 
help of some of his careless and scattered guard, 
drove the assailants from his house. Opechanca- 
nough apologized, and Smith affected to be satisfied. 
The rest of the day was passed in all friendship, — in 
exchange of presents, in feasting and sports ; the In- 
dians preferring to make a virtue of necessity, rather 
than contend longer and hopelessly against so watch- 
ful and daring a foe. 

The last flurry with the Pamunkeys was hardly 
over, when Captain Smith was startled by the arrival 
of Mr. Richard Wyffin from Jamestown. He brought 
a message, which he delivered to Smith privately, 
that the men upon whose discretion he depended for 
the care of the fort during his absence, and for his 
succor in case he should need it, were dead, and that 
his immediate return was necessary. No one had 
dared to venture upon this mission but himself, and 
he had undergone incessant perils on his way ; hav- 
ing been rescued from death at Werowocomoco only 
by the vigilance, artifices, and large bribes of Poca- 
hontas. Mr. Scrivener, Captain Waldo, Anthony 
Gosnold, a brother of the deceased navigator, and 
eight others, had been drowned by the swamping of 

14 



158 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

their boat in the river near the fort. Lest the knowl- 
edge of this calamity should depress his men, and 
thus embolden the savages to new assaults, Smith 
enjoined secrecy upon Wyffin, and disguised his own 
grief. At night, he went on board his boat with his 
men, and took his course immediately for Jamestown ; 
having first sent Mr. Crashaw and Mr. Ford, with a 
small party, across the country. He arrived at the 
fort about the 1st of February, after an absence of six 
weeks ; having purchased four hundred and seventy- 
nine bushels of corn and two hundred pounds of deer- 
suet. 

Although much of the grain in store was ruined, by 
neglect, during the absence of Smith, yet it was found 
that, with these new supplies, they had food enough 
to sustain the colony until the next harvest. The 
whole energies of the settlers were now demanded, by 
their resolute President, in labors for the thrift and 
comfort of the community. There were some forty 
willing and industrious men ; but the other hundred 
and fifty were restive and refractory. They plainly 
signified that both labor and discipline were unbefit- 
ting their pretensions as " gentlemen " ; and that they 
would stoutly resist the enforcement of either. Noth- 
ing could rouse Smith's indignation more thoroughly 
and dangerously than conceited laziness and insubor- 
dination. He told the " gentlemen " that he had au- 
thority in their case ; that, in virtue of the letters 
patent, the Council would enforce the law of labor 
equally and indiscriminately upon all not disabled by 
sickness ; that, by the recent swamping of their boat, 
the Council now consisted only of Captain Wynne and 
himself, the President ; and that no able-bodied man 



SINGLE COMBATS. 159 

among them should eat unless he performed his quota 
of work. Of honest labor or starvation they were free to 
make then election. Smith's resoluteness was known ; 
and the li gentlemen" fell into the ranks of work- 
men. Six hours of labor a day was his very moderate 
requisition ; the rest of the time the men might pass 
in such harmless recreations as they might choose. 
They were divided into companies of ten or fifteen ; 
to each company was allotted a section of labor ; and 
the tasks were performed, for every attempt to evade 
or slight them was in vain under the eye of such a 
master. As the result of this discipline, " in three 
months they had made a considerable quantity of tar, 
pitch, and potash ; produced a sample of glass ; dug a 
well of sweet water in the fort ; built twenty houses ; 
new-covered the church ; provided nets and weirs for 
fishing; and built a blockhouse on the isthmus of 
Jamestown, in which a garrison was stationed to 
trade with the Indians, and which no one was allowed 
to pass without an order from the President. An- 
other blockhouse was also erected and garrisoned on 
Hog Island ; thirty or forty acres of land were dug 
and planted ; trees were felled ; and clapboards and 
wainscoting were manufactured." 

The Dutchmen sent to build a house for Powhattan 
had not only revealed the plan for his capture, — a 
revelation of which Captain Smith himself was still 
unsuspicious, — but had perfected their treason by 
procuring, for the chief, English arms and ammuni- 
tion, by teaching his men to use them, and even by 
plotting with him for the murder of Smith. They had 
a few confederates in the fort, through whom they 
received swords, pike-heads, guns, powder, and shot, 
which were stored in the armory of Powhattan. 



160 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

About a mile from Jamestown, and in the deep 
shadows of the forest, stood a building which had 
been erected for experiments in the manufacture 
of glass. It was a convenient place of rendezvous 
for the Dutchmen, and their colleagues in the fort. 
One day, a short time after the return of the ex- 
pedition from Werowocomoco and Pamunkey, there 
was a gathering in this building. There were thirty- 
five Indians there, hideously painted and fully armed. 
Their commander was the chief of a neighboring 
tribe, the Pashiphays, a remarkably tall and muscu- 
lar man, a tributary to Powhattan. "With them was 
Francis, one of the traitor Dutchmen, disguised as an 
Indian. There were also one Bentley, and a Swiss 
named Volday, both belonging to the fort, "who had 
met Francis and his Indians by appointment. These 
three had just arranged with Pashiphay a plan for 
leading Captain Smith into an ambush; for which 
purpose the Indians had been lurking about the fort 
two or three days. We will not attempt to specify 
the plan, for the best of reasons, — we know not what 
it was. But no sooner was it arranged, than it was 
disarranged by the entrance of an Indian scout, who 
reported that Captain Smith had just left the fort 
with soldiers, and was coming in the direction of the 
building. The whole party scattered as though a 
bomb-shell had fallen in their midst. 

Half an hour afterwards, Smith with his men ap- 
proached. Having cautiously stationed them around 
the building, he entered the door alone. Seeing no 
one, he sought around for Francis, of whose arrival 
and treasonable friendship with Powhattan he had 
just received information. 



SINGLE COMBATS. 161 

u The bird has flown," said he, as he returned and 
called his men around him. He stood for a moment 
in a musing attitude, revolving what next to do. 

" The fellow must have some accomplice in the 
fort," observed Ensign Laxon. 

" To be sure ! " replied the President ; " some one 
who does the stealing for him " ; — for the Dutchmen 
were procuring weapons for Powhattan ; and that one 
of them was prowling about in disguise was all that 
Smith yet knew. " Remain here with the men, Mr. 
Laxon," he continued. " Conceal yourselves as much 
as possible, but keep your eyes and ears open. The 
fellow may return. If you catch the least glimpse of 
him, take him ; alive, if you can, — ^but take him." 

" How long, sir ? " 

" Till orders. You will receive them when I hear 
from Mr. Cuddrington" ; referring to a party of twenty, 
— one half the number with which he had left the 
fort, — whom he had sent, under that bold and reso- 
lute gentleman, to watch for Francis on the path to 
Werowocomoco. 

In the mean time, after a circuitous flight, Pashi- 
phay had rallied his men, about forty in number, and 
left them in ambush less than half a mile nearer to the 
fort, while he went himself to reconnoitre. Fortune 
favored his designs. He had not gone far, when the 
sound of a footstep caught his ear. Instantly crouch- 
ing down, he listened, and perceived, upon a repe- 
tition of the sound, that it was the step of a solitary 
person and a white man. This perplexed the savage 
for a moment ; for he could not believe that, when 
the ill-temper of his people towards the English was 
so well known, any one of them would venture into 
u* 



162 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the forest unattended. But his eye brightened, and 
even glowed with exulting eagerness, as his second 
thought suggested that there was one white man who 
would dare to do it. Creeping along with the soft 
tread of a cat, and flitting from bush to tree in the 
direction whence the wanderer was approaching, he 
soon caught sight of a plume, which he recognized at 
once as Captain Smith's. A second look revealed 
the features and form of the very man whose life he 
most desired to take, striding along the trail which 
led to the fort, and armed only with a sword. His 
joy at this unexpected sight and his certainty of secur- 
ing his prize were so great, that he could hardly re- 
strain the shout of triumph which rose instinctively to 
his lips. With the greatest effort he checked it ; and 
stooping down, he adjusted an arrow upon his bow, 
and slowly rose to his aim. The shaft was drawn to 
its head by one of the best marksmen and strongest 
arms in Powhattan's dominions. Never did archer 
have a fairer mark than was the breast of the unsus- 
pecting Englishman before the weapon of Pashiphay. 
The life of his formidable foe was in his hands. But 
his hands were in the hand of a Mightier. The sav- 
age suddenly lowered his bow and arrow, for he 
thought of his men, and of the prowess of Smith. 
One arrow might fail, — forty were better. Step- 
ping therefore from the ooppice upon the narrow 
footpath, his weapon carelessly suspended in his 
hand, he stood in full view of Smith, but with his 
eyes in another direction, as if intently watching for 
some object concealed in the forest. Captain Smith 
was startled by his sudden appearance, and paused. 
But perceiving the abstracted attention of a chief 



SINGLE COMBATS. 163 

whom he immediately recognized, and to whom he 
had been under essential obligation during his cap- 
tivity, he felt no alarm. Resuming his walk, there- 
fore, he attracted the notice of the Indian, whose 
countenance at once lighted up with a pleasant smile 
of welcome ; although with one hand he immediately 
pointed to the forest, and with the other made a sign 
for silence. Smith at once understood that Pashi- 
phay was on the track of game ; an opinion confirmed 
by the manner in which he carried his weapons. As 
the two silently approached each other, the Indian 
spoke in a whisper : " I am glad to see my friend. 
Let us hunt the deer together." 

" I have only my sword, Pashiphay, and cannot 
shoot." 

The chief's eye twinkled as he was reminded of 
what he had before joyfully noticed ; but he quietly 
observed : " Pashiphay will shoot. Come with me 
this way," pointing in the direction where his men 
lay concealed. u I will soon lay a buck at the feet of 
my friend." 

" Let Pashiphay kill his deer, and come to the fort. 
I will send men to bring the game, and will pay you 
copper." 

" But I would have my friend see how great a 
shoot I can make, — very long. Pashiphay is a great 
hunter, and before the white werowance will bring 
down the deer when I can only see the tip of his 
horn. They have only started a little way. Come, 
Captain Smith, and see great shoot." 

" I know that Pashiphay is a great hunter and has 
a sharp eye," said Smith ; " but my men wait for me 
at the fort." And he began to resume his walk. 



164 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" The great chief of the whites is too proud to hunt 
with the red man ; although he tried hard to save the 
white chiefs life when he was Opechancanough's 
captive." 

" Pashiphay did so, and I am not ungrateful. But 
would you have me neglect my great business ? No. 
When I have time for sport, I will see you shoot. 
But now I must go. When you have killed, come to 
the fort, and you shall have good cheer." 

" Hist! " whispered the Indian : " I hear the tread; 
they come this way. Now you can see ; and Pashi- 
phay will be proud." 

Smith heard nothing; and he saw nothing but a 
peculiar glint in the Indian's eye. Abandoning all 
hope of drawing Smith in the direction of his ambush, 
the chief rested his arrow upon his bow-string, looked 
earnestly into the wood, and retreated a step or two, 
watching as for the appearance of game. Smith 
stepped in the same direction. Pashiphay no sooner 
perceived this, than he knew its reason ; and, leaping 
backward, was drawing his bow upon Smith, who, 
quick as his foe, with one bound grappled him. The 
whole movement had been so rapid, that Smith had 
had no time to find his sword-hilt. It was now a 
desperate hand-to-hand contest for life : the Indian of 
large stature and brawny, the Englishman compara- 
tively small, but lithe and agile. They had griped each 
other by the arms ; and thus they stood for a brief 
time, each weaponless and motionless, but reading in 
the other's eyes the stern purpose of death. A contest 
of main strength with such a foe left no reasonable 
hope for the white man. The Indian's first effort was 
to hurl him sideways upon the ground. Instead of re- 



SINGLE COMBATS. 165 

sisting the impulse, Smith followed it ; and thus, by 
a single leap, retained his footing. An attempt to 
crush him was in like manner evaded ; but the 
movement brought both to the ground. Neither of 
them had loosed his gripe ; for neither would risk re- 
ceiving, for the hope of giving, a blow. Struggling 
and panting, they rolled convulsively one over the 
other, the perpetual activity of Smith baffling every 
attempt of the huge savage to plant his knee upon his 
breast. Their violent and rapid contortions soon pro- 
duced exhaustion, and they lay there without motion 
for a few moments, the hot breath steaming in each 
other's faces, while they glared upon each other with 
unabated rage and defiance. The respite was brief. 
They were again upon their knees, upon their feet ; 
and the Indian now drew Smith by degrees toward 
the river. In this his weight and muscular power 
gave him the advantage. They were soon upon the 
edge of the bank, a slight but abrupt descent, with 
about waist-depth of water. Finding that he must 
go, and resolving to go on equal terms, Smith locked 
his leg with that of the savage, and both rolled rather 
than fell into the stream. Long they struggled in the 
water, until at length Smith's iron gripe was upon the 
Indian's throat. He could not force him under, but 
he had him at decided advantage, and improved it by 
feeling for his sword. After several unsuccessful ef- 
forts, he drew it from its sheath. Pashiphay now 
would have cried for mercy ; but he was gasping for 
mere breath, and his tongue hung powerless from his 
mouth. He relaxed every muscle, laid his hands 
quietly upon the arm which held him, turned his eyes, 
already starting in their sockets, to Smith's, and said 



166 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

as plainly as looks and attitude could say, " Spare 
me ! I yield ! " The point of the sword was at his 
breast, but it dropped. The hand was loosened from 
his throat. The strife was over. During the whole, 
not a word had been spoken. Not a word was spoken 
now. The powerful captive meekly obeyed the im- 
perious signal of the victor, and walked before him to 
the shore, to his bow and arrow, which were appro- 
priated as trophies, and thence to the fort, where he 
was chained and imprisoned. He soon escaped, how- 
ever, with his irons upon him. 

These attempts upon the life of Captain Smith not 
only illustrate his boldness, his soldierly tact, and his 
presence of mind, but they show the shrewdness of 
Powhattan in detecting the real weakness of the colo- 
nists, and in discerning in whom alone their great 
strength lay. They also show how completely and 
universally the forest monarch made his own decrees 
the law of his subjects ; for so implicit was their obe- 
dience, that they assailed the man whom most of all 
they feared for his courage and skill, and whom they 
regarded with even superstitious awe. Although so 
often baffled, they continued their subtle hostilities, 
until the word went forth from Powhattan' s mouth to 
cease. 

Two occurrences in particular contributed to this 
change of policy in the savage autocrat. Very soon 
after Smith's adventure with Pashiphay, one of Pow- 
hattan's villagers had obtained — dishonestly, of course 
— a bag of gunpowder and a piece of a suit of armor. 
Upon his return to Werowocomoco, wishing to dis- 
play to his fellows the wisdom which he had acquired, 
he proceeded to dry the powder upon the armor-piece 



PEACE. 167 

over a fire, as he had seen the soldiers do at James- 
town. Several Indians clustered around him to wit- 
ness the mysterious process. The powder took fire, 
and blew the poor fellow, and two others, to atoms, 
besides terribly scorching several of the by-standers, 
and frightening the rest immeasurably. The appall- 
ing effect of this catastrophe upon the minds of Pow- 
hattan and his subjects can hardly be conceived. 
Gunpowder, instead of being coveted, became an 
object of the greatest dread ; while Superstition and 
Conscience whispered in their ears that this stealing 
from the whites was but a hare-brained trifling with 
" the God of Captain Smith." 

The other incident to which we refer was some- 
what analogous. Three Indians, brothers, had been 
concerned in stealing a pistol. One of them escaped 
with the prize, but the other two were apprehended. 
One of the two was liberated, and told, that, if he did 
not find and return the pistol within twelve hours, the 
other should be hung. The weather was still cold, 
and Captain Smith ordered charcoal to be sent to the 
prisoner for his comfort. In a few horns, the other 
returned with the ransom for his brother's life. But 
upon opening his apartment, he was found apparently 
dead, overcome by the gas of the burning coal. Cap- 
tain Smith, — who had come, with his cool common 
sense and practical experience, to the poor fellow's 
rescue, — being annoyed by the upbraidings and wait- 
ings of the other, promised to restore his brother to 
life. Almost hopeless as the case was, means of 
resuscitation were vigorously used, and the man 
recovered. 

Here were two cases of theft. Each was followed, 



168 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

as the Indians believed, by death. In the first in- 
stance, Smith was not at hand, did not interfere, and 
the judgment of " Ms God " was irreparable. In the 
second, he did interfere, and by his superhuman power 
the dead was made alive again. What now could be 
plainer than the insanity of contending with " Captain 
Smith's God " ? "What more suicidal, than hostility 
with a man under such protection, and having him- 
self such power ? The superstitious awe with which 
Powhattan and his subjects had before regarded 
Smith was now revived, and became unbounded. 
He, and all his chiefs, and " the better sort of his 
people," were immediately importunate for peace. 
Stolen goods were voluntarily returned ; the thieves 
themselves were sent to Jamestown to receive punish- 
ment ; and whenever the colonists detected and pun- 
ished any, the culprits would beg that their chiefs 
should not be told of their deeds, lest they should 
receive a second punishment at home. It soon be- 
came almost literally true, that " Captain Smith " 
was a name of so much weight, that no Indian "dared 
to wrong the colonists of a pin." He was no more 
troubled with thefts, plots, or treacheries ; and the 
English could roam as carelessly and safely through 
the forests as the natives. So far did the latter carry 
their friendliness, that when the colonists, under a 
false apprehension, thought themselves about to be 
attacked by a powerful force of Spanish rovers, they 
" came forward with the greatest alacrity, and offered 
to fight side by side with the English against their 
enemies." 

It was a timely and fortunate peace. When the 
spring opened, the colonists discovered, to their con- 



PEACE. 169 

sternation, that nearly one half their corn had been 
devoured by rats, and that the other half, which had 
been stored in casks, had rotted. In a condition so 
dependent, a state of hostility would have been 
fraught with woes alike to the Indians and to the 
English. But now, no sooner was this condition 
known abroad, than their late enemies came to their 
succor. They sent to Jamestown " squirrels, turkies, 
deere, and other wilde beasts " ; Powhattan sent them 
nearly half his stock of corn ; and the humbler In- 
dians bade them welcome to their wigwams and to a 
share at their homely meals. Still, much wit and 
labor were necessary on the part of the English to 
gather food. The many lazy and profligate ones 
rebelled against this necessity. They demanded that 
the tools, the weapons, the very houses of the colony 
should be bartered, rather than they be tasked to sus- 
tain their own lives. They rose in wrath because 
Smith — upon whom, by the death of Captain 
Wynne, all authority had now devolved — would 
not let them take by force the scanty remnant of 
Powhattan's stores. They even conspired to aban- 
don the colony. Orice more Smith taught them that 
he was and would be master, seizing and signally 
punishing their ringleader, " one Dyer, a crafty fel- 
low, and his ancient maligner." 

" If you are idle," said he to the rest, " I will force 
you ; if you wrangle, I will punish you ; if you try 
to run away, I will hang you. At the hazard of my 
life have I many a time saved you, when you would 
have starved through your own laziness and shiftless- 
ness. But now, I protest by the God that made me, 
you shall not only gather food for yourselves, but for 

13 



170 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the sick also. Else you shall be banished from the 
fort until you either mend your manners or starve." 

It was no idle threat, this threat of banishment ; 
for the Indians, with all their generous hospitality, 
would not now bestow a kernel to save from starva- 
tion any one who came to their huts without the ap- 
proval of Captain Smith, and the lazy fellows knew 
it. They called the President cruel and tyrannical, — 
for which he cared not a groat ; but they submitted. 

Thus were Smith's ingenuity, his courage, his 
watchfulness, toil, and even martial severity, in con- 
stant requisition to save the colony of which he was 
the trustee, now from the machinations of the hos- 
tile savage, and now from the malicious instigations 
of the Devil. It was a harassing and almost hopeless 
task ; but he did it. 

In May of this year (1609), "the London Compa- 
ny" changed the form of government in the colony.* 
Lord Delaware was appointed Governor, or Captain- 



* They obtained a new charter, by which they were empowered to 
arrange and manage their affairs without the intervention of the king. 
" The Supreme Council in England was now to be chosen by the stock- 
holders themselves. The Governor in Virginia might rule the colonists 
with uncontrolled authority, according to the tenor of instructions and 
laws established by the Council ; or, in want of them, according to his 
own good [or bad] discretion, even in cases capital and criminal, not less 
than civil; and in the event of mutiny or rebellion, he might declare 
martial law, being himself the judge of the necessity of the measure, and 
the executive officer in its administration. Thus the lives, liberty, and 
fortune of the colonists were placed at the arbitrary will of a governor 
who was to be appointed by a commercial corporation. As yet, not one 
valuable civil privilege was conceded to the emigrants." Bancroft, 1. 136. 
They were regarded simply as a garrison stationed for the security of an 
estate ; as servants employed for a master's profit. 



ANARCHY. 171 

General, for life ; Sir Thomas Gates, Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor ; Sir George Somers, Admiral ; and Captain 
Newport, Smith's avowed enemy, Vice- Admiral. In 
the latter part of May, nine vessels sailed from Eng- 
land for the colony, having on board five hundred 
emigrants. Lord Delaware remained at home for the 
present. Gates, Somers, and Newport had each a 
commission, authorizing the first one of the three who 
should arrive in Virginia to supersede the administra- 
tion then existing there. They all embarked in the 
same vessel, that so neither one might arrive first. 
This vessel — the Sea- Venture — was parted from 
the rest in a gale, on the 25th of July, when near 
the coast of Virginia, and was stranded upon the 
Bermudas Islands. Another small vessel was utter- 
ly lost. The seven others, having on board about 
three hundred emigrants, most of them moneyless, 
graceless, and godless, arrived at Jamestown about 
the 1st of August. 

Here was a dilemma, — the old charter of the Com- 
pany annulled, and they in whom the government 
was vested under the new, tossed by the sea, no 
one knew where. Here was a dilemma, — three 
hundred new mouths to be fed, and scarce fifty pairs 
of hands not too genteel to work. Here was a di- 
lemma, — three hundred more dissolute, reckless, 
unruly men to be governed, and no acknowledged 
governor ; three hundred more to be governed, the 
authority of the only man capable of governing 
repudiated, himself an object of prejudice and dis- 
like to the new-comers, and yet no one having a 
right to supplant him. The result was what might 
have been expected, — confusion, uproar, insubordi- 



172 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

nation, chaos, anarchy ; now one caprice dominant, 
now another ; one governor to-day, a new governor 
to-morrow ; a party for proceeding under the new 
charter, a party for proceeding under the old, a party 
for proceeding under nothing at all. " Happie had 
we beene," are Smith's words, "had they never ar- 
rived, and we forever abandoned ; for on earth, for 
the number, was never more confusion or misery than 
their factions occasioned." Some of those newly 
arrived had common sense, and soon discovered that 
the tales of Smith's incapacity and tyranny which 
they had heard were libels. These joined with the 
old settlers, who knew his worth and virtues, and 
entreated him to assume the magistracy and save 
them from destruction. His own disgust and every 
selfish consideration prompted him otherwise ; but 
he felt for the interests of the colony which he had 
nurtured and shielded from its birth, and yielded. 
The moment he did so, the whole community felt the 
presence of a strong hand. There was a struggle, to 
be sure ; but the factious ringleaders were at once im- 
prisoned for trial, disorders quelled, and the machinery 
of society was once more in motion. 

In arranging the affairs of the new community, 
Smith made what appears to have been the first ter- 
ritorial purchase of Powhattan, — a place called by 
the chief's name, just below the falls of the river, — 
the same where his first interview with Smith and 
Newport occurred. 

But the mission of Smith in Virginia was nearly 
closed. Passing down the river from his new pur- 
chase, a bag of gunpowder exploded by his side while 
he was asleep. He was terribly mangled ; and, in 



ANARCHY. 173 

the agony and distraction of the moment, leaped into 
the river, from which he was rescued in a drowning 
state. The voyage of one hundred miles in an open 
boat to Jamestown was accomplished under excru- 
ciating suffering. Yet when he arrived there, " unable 
to stand, and neere bereft of his senses by reason of 
his torment," he was obliged to exercise the mental 
energy of a hale man, to meet the domestic exigencies 
of the colony. 

RadclifTe — the whilom President, "the poore coun- 
terfeited imposture" whom Smith had sent home that 
his throat might not be cut — was among the new- 
comers, and the chief of all mutineers and conspira- 
tors. He was one of those whom Smith had recently 
imprisoned to await their trial. This miscreant and 
his accomplices yielded to the temptation, which his 
helpless condition suggested, to take the life of Smith 
by assassinating him in his bed. The villain selected 
for the murder failed. At the critical moment, he 
had not the courage to fire his pistol at that man. 
Baffled in this scheme, the conspirators aimed at 
usurping the government. But the sick man was 
yet too strong for imbecile knaves. His old soldiers, 
the stanch followers of his past fortunes, the com- 
rades of his wilderness toils, were exasperated by these 
infamous attempts. They now gathered around his 
bed, and besought him for orders to bring the heads 
of the mutineers. 

" No, my friends," was his answer, " I am a crip- 
pled man. I may fairly retire from this sickening 
strife. If I crush insubordination, I shall be blamed 
at home ; if I fail to, I shall be blamed. So it has 
been for two years. So it will continue to be. Be- 

15* 



174 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

sides, such summary justice would lead to a civil 
war, — a woe which I would not bring upon this 
community." 

His wounds grew more dangerous. English sur- 
gery was necessary to save his life. So he placed 
the government of the colony in the hands of Lieu- 
tenant Percy, and sailed for England about the 29th 
of September, 1609, being then only thirty years of 
age. " He left behind him four hundred and ninety 
colonists, one hundred of whom were trained and 
expert soldiers, three ships, seven boats, twenty-four 
pieces of ordnance, three hundred muskets and other 
arms, abundance of ammunition and tools, wearing- 
apparel sufficient for all their wants, and an ample 
stock of domestic animals and provisions." 

If history is worth anything, it is valuable as an 
exponent of Divine Providence, — as illustrating how 
He who plans and evolves those signal events which 
most attract the statesman and the Christian, not 
only endows, but educates, the men by whose agency 
He brings them to pass. In comparing their prepara- 
tory training with the peculiar spheres in which they 
have afterwards been called to act, we cannot fail to 
admire the plastic skill with which He adapts the 
former to the latter. With an eye to this truth, we 
have enlarged upon the providential apprenticeship of 
John Smith, though not necessary to narrating the 
settlement of Virginia. In his case, and in that of 
Christopher Columbus, pre-eminently, by going back 
in their memoirs, we see how, and how thoroughly, 
the men were educated for their respective parts in 
the drama of the Western World. 



ANARCHY. 175 

We recognize the same overruling Wisdom, as we 
record that Smith appeared no more as an actor on 
the scene of our narrative ; for the young Father of 
Virginia was withdrawn by no human calculations or 
agency, but, to use a significant popular phrase, "by 
the providence of God." Though we presume not to 
divine its reasons, yet his withdrawal just before the 
imposition of a new and questionable system of gov- 
ernment suggests that his presence may not have 
been needed under the new order of things, or that 
his high and soldierly spirit might have proved a dis- 
cordant element under an administration so peculiar. 
He was withdrawn just before the incoming of a new 
magistracy ; but, let it be observed, just long enough 
before to demonstrate for ever his controlling capaci- 
ties and his conservative worth.* 



* In 1614, Smith explored the coast of North Virginia, as it was then 
called, to which he gave the name, ever since retained, of New England. 
On this voyage, he constructed a map of the whole country, from the 
Penobscot to Cape Cod. After his return, a year and a half were con- 
sumed in a series of misadventures at sea. He passed the rest of his life 
in England, occupied wholly in American affairs. These, he said, " were 
his children, his wife, his hawks, his hounds, his cards, his dice, and in 
totall, his best content." The mercantile bodies, whose pulses were 
purses, whose souls were account-books, were shy of his service ; partly 
because they could only appreciate profit and loss, partly because they 
were jealous of one who aspired to things greater. His inestimable ser- 
vices in Virginia and on the coast of New England were unrequited, 
although they had consumed all his pecuniary means and the flower of 
his life. " In neither of these two countries," said he, " have I one foot 
of land, nor the very house I builded, nor the ground I digged with my 
own hands, nor any content or satisfaction [i. e. emolument] at all." 

After his return from New England, he wrote, published, and dis- 
tributed no less than seven different volumes, all of them but two relat- 
ing to America. He died in London in 1631, in the fifty-second year of 
his age, occupied to the very last in writing, for publication, the results 



176 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

of his own world-wide experience. Of the particulars of his death there 
is no record. 

His public character needs no analysis or eulogy. The simple narra- 
tive of his life is sufficient. In regard to his private morals, it is enough 
to quote two lines, eulogistic to be sure, but significant. The author 
shall indicate himself. 

" I never knew a warrior yet, but thee, 
From wine, tobacco, debts, dice, oaths, so free." 

"Your true friend, sometimes your souldier, 

Tho. Carlton." 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE LAST CAKOUSE.— STARVATION. — RESCUE. 

The months passed along, bearing their sev- 
eral records to be sealed up unto the day of 
revelation. From September to April, one after an- 
other, they had grown old, and dropped into the abyss 
of the Past, each burdened with its tale of human 
behavior and Heavenly mercy. April, as she lingered 
on her last day of grace, turned her parting look over 
the Virginian landscape, smiled upon the fresh verdure 
of the forest, but dropped plenteous tears upon the set- 
tlement of Jamestown. The foliage was yet dripping 
with her affusions, the declining sun was limning the 
gorgeous memorial of God's covenant on the falling 
spray, and wood-birds were striving one with another 
to render their glad tribute of melody to Him whose 
bow was there on the cloud. Why did the expiring 
month smile ? Because all around God's works were 
glorious. Why did she weep ? Because all around 
man's were grievous. 

The fortress was still there, unimpaired and bris- 
tling with ordnance. The dwellings were still there, 
rude indeed, but sufficient for the comfort of many a 
household. The little church was still there, with its 
modest spire, an index to " things above." The graves 
of the dead — of Gosnold, and Stevens, and Scrivener, 
and Waldo — were there, covered with green turf 



178 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

and flowers ; while near them were many, many other 
mounds, on which no turf yet grew and no flowers 
bloomed. "Where were the living, and what ? 

There were two soldiers on the ramparts. There 
was a sentinel in the gateway. There were four men 
coming up from the block -house on "the neck." 
There were a dozen sitting in the doors of the dwell- 
ings. Yet none were in motion but the four ; and not 
the sound of a voice was to be heard, except from 
within the embrasure of the fort. In one retired 
apartment there were half a dozen men, whose sounds 
of revelry broke strangely upon the ears of the lone 
sentry, and accorded little with the portentous aspect 
of the settlement without. These men were in mili- 
tary costume, and wore badges of office. It was evi- 
dent that they had been eating at the table at which 
they were seated, although not a fragment was now 
to be seen. The bottle, however, was in circulation ; 
and the inflamed though haggard faces of the party 
showed that it had been. They were evidently the 
victims both of hunger and of inebriety. As the last 
chorus of a wild and profane song ceased, one of them 
rose to his feet with some difficulty, and addressed 
the others with a ludicrous attempt at oratory. 

" Fellow-soldiers, and fellow-sinners ! Thus far we 
have kept Death at bay. Some of our men have been 
fools enough to be murdered by the savages. Some 
of them have been fools enough to starve. But we 
have had good sense enough to keep at home, and be 
merry. Many a jolly time have we had here ; for 
though our larder has been low, and hunger has 
pinched us, yet good-fellowship and merriment — 
thanks to the bottle — have abounded in our mess. 



THE LAST CAROUSE. 179 

Let the memory of them be blessed! I have the 
honor now to announce, that our roistering hours are 
over. Our last handful of meal, our last cruse of oil, 
are gone. Our last bottle is before us. Upon this 
affecting occasion, I give you a sentiment which I 
heartily commend to your adoption. I am indebted 
for it to one Horatius Flaccus, an old Roman whose 
odes were whipped into me at Eton. But as his own 
sweet words have gone from me, let me give you their 
meaning in our mother tongue : 

' Fill the goblet fair ! 

Every drop we sprinkle 
O'er the brow of care, 

Smooths away a wrinkle.' " 

A wild hurrah rang through the room, and reached 
the ears of miserable wretches beyond its walls, as he 
concluded. When it had subsided, a young man of 
the company exclaimed : " Good, good, Mr. Thorn- 
hill ! Let me echo to your sentiment in the vernacu- 
lar of the old Epicureans, who always had their hearts 
in their right places : ' Bum vivimus, vivamus ! ' which 
being freely interpreted means, ' While we live, let us 
drink ! ' or, which is the same thing, ' While we drink, 
we live ! ' " 

Another shout of applause followed these words of 
the dying youth, as he suited the action to the word, 
and drank madly from the bottle which he held in his 
hand. 

" Pass it along ! pass it along, Wilton ! " exclaimed 
the others ; and with a trembling hand he obeyed. 

We said, "the dying youth." Let us explain. 
Wilton was one of those "dissipated young men 
exiled by their friends to escape a worse destiny at 



180 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

home." He was of good family and education, as 
were his fellow-officers around him. But his relatives 
— too indolent, or too pleasure-loving, or too busy to 
take pains for his salvation — had thrust him away, 
by frowns, by neglect, by harshness, from all redeem- 
ing influences. He gave himself up, of course, and 
was beyond redemption. A noble-minded, noble- 
hearted young man, willing to fight hard for deliver- 
ance, if he could only have one arm to lean upon in 
his hours of weakness and temptation ; who wept, and 
even prayed, in secret places, over his vice ; who wept 
over and cursed his friendlessness ; who writhed, not 
only under the goadings of conscience, but even more 
under the scorn and wrong of kindred ; so soon as he 
believed himself an outcast — was lost. No matter! 
u friends " were relieved. 

He still retained, in his personal appearance, indi- 
cations of what he had been. He was of a slender 
and graceful form ; the outline of his features was 
noble ; and, though his intellectual energies were 
shattered, they were still discernible, as well as his 
amiability, in his hours of sobriety. Just now, how- 
ever, the man was hidden in the sot. There was 
nothing stolid or stupefied in the expression of his eye 
under the influence of this debauch. It blazed. As 
he drank again, and still again, it rapidly grew rest- 
less, wild, anxious, alarmed. The stimulus which he 
plied seemed to have no power to nerve his system, 
which grew more and more tremulous with every 
draught. The bottle, the last bottle, came to him 
again. He filled his cup, and was in the act of rais- 
ing it to his lips, when he suddenly looked upon a 
boon companion opposite, and, spilling half its con- 
tents, set the cup upon the table. 



THE LAST CAROUSE. 181 

the matter, Wilton ? " exclaimed the 
other. 

" By Jupiter! by Bacchus ! "What 's the matter with 
you, Newell ? " 

" Pass the bottle ! pass the bottle ! " cried Thorn- 
hill. 

Wilton paid no attention to the demand, but con- 
tinued to gaze upon Newell. The gaze became a 
glare. " By all the immortal gods, goddesses, satyrs, 
fauns, and demons, Newell, what are you about ? " 

" Asking you a question. What are you star- 
ing at?" 

The attention of the whole company was now riv- 
eted upon the young man ; and some of them began 
to be alarmed as they saw the unnatural expression of 
his features. 

" I say, Newell ! " — and he fairly roared as he said 
it, — " what are you spirting that fire at me for ? If 
it does hit my face, by — , I '11 be the death of you ! " 

" Wilton ! Wilton ! " said a companion, taking hold 
of his arm. 

" Let me alone, Branton ! " and he threw off the 
grasp with a spasmodic jerk, while he still kept an 
apprehensive look upon Newell. Suddenly he cringed 
his head, as though struck by some missile ; and, 
starting the next instant from his seat, hurled the 
bottle, which he still held in his grasp, with all his 
force at Newell. The half-intoxicated man made a 
feeble and awkward effort to avoid it, but it struck 
him full in the face, and he fell, stunned and bleeding, 
on the floor. 

All was now uproar and confusion. Thornhill and 
Shirley staggered to the assistance of Newell, while 

16 



182 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Branton and Law ton, the sixth of the party, made 
ineffectual efforts to secure Wilton. 

" Keep off! keep off, you devils ! " cried the frantic 
man, retreating, and beating the air with his arms. 
His pursuers, a little sobered by their fright, approached 
him timidly ; but he ran and dodged about the room 
with an agility which mocked their efforts. At last 
he placed his back against a corner of the apartment, 
and paused. The muscles of his face, his open 
mouth, the heaving of his chest, and his peculiar res- 
piration, denoted fright rather than fatigue. Branton 
and Lawton stood aloof. Fixing his eye upon the 
latter, the terror-stricken man gasped out : " Captain 
Radcliffe ! Captain Radcliffe ! » 

Radcliffe, it was well known by the wretched rem- 
nant of the colony, had been brained, with thirty of 
his men, by the order and in the presence of Powhat- 
tan, some three months before. 

" Ugh ! " continued Wilton, with a shudder ; " how 
your brains do dribble ! I beg — I beg — Captain 
Radcliffe ! Don't, don't spatter them in my face ! 
For Heaven's sake, don't ! " And he wound his arms 
around his head as if to shield it. He then bounded 
from his place for an open window, and leaped through 
it upon the ground. The fall was but little, but Wil* 
ton lay there as if paralyzed. Lawton and Branton, 
with the help of three or four feeble, emaciated, but 
sober men, now succeeded in securing the maniac, 
and conveying him, in a state of utter exhaustion 
from terror, to a private apartment. 

The last sun of April was just dipping behind the 
wooded hills, and he looked through the casement as 
the outcast inebriate was laid senseless on his pallet. 



STARVATION. 183 

There, through the livelong night, sobbed and moaned 
the gifted castaway ; his heart throbbing faster and 
feebler, until it fluttered, stopped, fluttered a little 
while again, then ceased to beat for ever. His 
" friends " were relieved ! 

Such was the last carouse of the officers in the 
fort at Jamestown, the last of their very many since 
the 29th of September. What were the pastimes of 
others ? 

The sentinel at the gateway and the two soldiers 
on the ramparts had not been there in the performance 
of military duty. Such a thing was hardly thought 
of now, though never more necessary. They were 
there to quiet their own impatience, eagerly watching 
for the return of comrades who had gone out into the 
forest. They were very much emaciated, with hollow 
cheeks, and sunken eyes, and skinny hands, leaning 
against the walls for support, and shuffling along 
whenever they walked, as if it were a grief to move, — 
and so it was. As soon as those before mentioned as 
coming up from the block-house on " the neck " were 
seen, the two on the ramparts exerted themselves, and 
joined the sentinel, as we have called him, at the gate. 
Before long, the scouts came up, — meagre, gaunt, 
disheartened-looking men like the others, — creeping 
painfully along, and sat down wearied in the gateway. 
These seven were the strong men of the commoners, 
the bullies whom none dared to interfere with, for 
they were the only ones except the drunken officers 
who had weapons. They had formed a sort of 
league, and constituted a clan by themselves. The 
" sentinel," Hicks, was head-man, and one of the new- 
comers, Spicer, second-man. Without one of these, 



184 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

none of the party ever left the fort. As Spicer and 
his fellows seated themselves, the others looked wist- 
fully at them in silence. 

After waiting a moment, Hicks spoke angrily: 
u What do you wait for, Spicer ? Undo your bud- 
get ; — quick, man ! " 

" Can't you let me get my breath ? " 

" No ! " 

Spicer drew a small bag from the skirt of his coat, 
and threw it upon the ground. " There 's your stuff; 
we 've had enough of it." 

The few nuts and roots were quickly divided be- 
tween the three who had remained in the fort, and 
were quickly devoured. 

The shouts of the officers at their revels now sound- 
ed upon their ears, and the wretched men's faces, as 
they looked one at another, were eloquent of indigna- 
tion. They remained silent and sullen, however, until 
the second shout, occasioned by the response of the 
miserable Wilton to the words of Thornhill. Hicks 
could restrain his wrath no longer. 

" Curse the rascals ! " he exclaimed, grinding his 
teeth and clenching his bony fists. " They 'd get 
drunk at their mothers' funerals, and dance on their 
mothers' graves, rather than not get drunk at all ! " 

" Rayther a change, Captain, from the old order of 
things ! " said one of the men with a sarcastic drawl. 

" Wiggins, Strickland, Jones, Lane, Spicer, — 
every one of you, — we are not given to praying," 
said Hicks, with a wild look of fury ; " but I am going 
to pray now, and do you pray with me, for these fel- 
lows who hold back bread from the starving, who riot 
and make merry and get drunk among the dying and 
the dead!" 






STARVATION. 185 

He uncovered his head ; the others uncovered also. 
It was an impressive scene, that grizzly soldier of 
nearly threescore years, his hair worn scant and thin 
by the pressure of his casque, turning up his sunken 
eyeballs and stretching out his arms imploringly to 
heaven. Every line of his haggard face was alive, and 
he uttered as earnest a prayer as ever came from trem- 
bling lips ; but it was an awful, a vehement pleading 
for the hot and speedy wrath of the Almighty upon 
the men who made sport in the midst of overwhelm- 
ing miseries ! His comrades shuddered as he pro- 
nounced his husky, but vigorous " Amen ! " and Hicks 
himself shuddered too, buried his face in his hands, 
bent his head upon his knees, and went into a convul- 
sive fit of weeping. His companions, at first awed by 
the terribleness and energy of his imprecations, were 
now frightened by a passion which rapidly became 
agony. But when he tore his own hair, and bit his 
own flesh, and glared about like a maniac, two of 
them sprang upon him, first to secure, and then to 
soothe, while the others stood aloof through fear. 
Hicks soon yielded to a few kind words and services, 
and his anguish subsided into intermittent fits of sob- 
bing, when Spicer and Lane judiciously conveyed the 
sufferer to his dwelling. The rest remained, until the 
plunge of poor Wilton from the window demanded 
their service. 

" May God forgive me ! " said the wretched Hicks, 
as he lay on his bed about midnight, surrounded by 
his comrades. " I was frenzied with famine ; but — 
but they were horrible words ! " 

He wept again, but they were quiet and relieving 
tears, which wet his pillow. The sudden paroxysm 

16* 



186 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

of his insanity — for such it had been — had passed ; 
and after a few inquiries about Wilton, and a few 
ejaculations for mercy upon the dying man, whom he 
did not mean to curse, he relapsed into a short slum- 
ber. When he awoke, he found his friends still 
watching by his side, and, raising himself to a sit- 
ting posture, " Look there ! " said he, " and there ! " 
pointing with his finger to different parts of the room. 
" You see what we are coming to. Shall we come to 
it, or shall we not ? that 's the question." 

The men looked, and though, through familiarity 
with such scenes and their own sufferings, they were 
past pity, they shuddered as they saw what them- 
selves might be. The objects which Hicks indicated 
were an attenuated corpse, with its chin dropped and 
its glassy eyes open, near the centre of the room, and 
a dying man who sat against the wall, holding the 
fragment of a cast-off shoe, and mumbling it between 
his teeth. 

u Now," continued Hicks, in a sepulchral whisper, 
" we must come to it, or do something which is hor- 
rible. No ! " and he shook his head, as he caught a 
look from the others which needed no interpretation. 
" No ! not them ! But — but — " He stopped, as if 
he could not say what he must. 

" It 's no use mincing matters," he resumed. " We 
must, — we must. Come," said he, with a ghastly 
effort to smile, and rising to his feet. " Take a spade, 
Wiggins, and a tinder-box." 

And so they went, in the still watches of the night, 
far away from the frenzied shrieks and feeble moan- 
ings of the starving, into the placid and moonlit forest, 
to the shallow grave of an Indian whom Hicks had 



STARVATION. 187 

shot and covered a few days before ; and they kin- 
dled a fire, and they uncovered the dead, and * * * * 
And then they slept there in the quiet wood, gorged 
to satiety, until the birds woke them with their morn- 
ing songs to God. And again those men went there, 
and yet again, and they throve and grew strong ; but 
when the birds sang in the mornings, they did not 
sing with them. 

During the first night-excursion of Hicks and his 
comrades, there was a man sitting on a stone by his 
doorway. He could not sleep for the agony of that 
gnawing — gnawing — gnawing sensation of madden- 
ing hunger. But just within the open door his wife 
was slumbering; for, with her, the ravening, acute 
suffering of starvation had passed, and she was just 
merging into that comparative stupor which next 
supervenes. Her slumbers, however, were light and 
uneasy. The man, — who was he? John Laydon, 
who had married with Anne Burras ? Our authori- 
ties do not say. The man sat there alone, chewing 
an old glove, while the moon smiled upon him, and 
the whippoorwill sang to him, just as though they 
could make him happy. Well, instead of that, they 
made him mad, — mad, — for he was starving, and 
fancied that they were mocking him. There was an 
axe at the door-sill. He saw it shine in the moon- 
light, and he smiled. He did ; he smiled, — that 
starving wretch ! And then he slowly and feebly got 
up ; and he looked at the axe again, and then he 
took it. 

" O John ! John ! " cried the wife ; for though he 
had crept in like a cat, she had heard his heavy, agi- 
tated breathing, and seen him raise the axe. She 



188 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

sprang to her feet ; but the hot blood spirted from her 
shoulder, for the light was imperfect, and the blow 
had been unsteady. 

li O John ! do not ! do not ! " and she fell upon 
her knees, and flung her lean arms, as strongly as she 
could, around his waist. Though he struggled to 
push her off, she managed to say : " We have loved, 
we have prayed together ; and now let us die as God 
pleases, only together, John, — together ! DonH strike 
again ; but kiss me, — kiss me once more, and then 
we will go, and — " 

They were her last words. 

For two, three, four days, the man grew stronger. 
But he was gloomy, and kept out of sight ; and when 
by chance he met some one, he was so shy, and had 
such a hang-dog look, as to attract attention. To the 
question, " Where is your wife, John ? " put to him 
occasionally by a neighbor, he had not courage -even 
to say, " She has died as the others have died." He 
was dumb, and slunk away. Suspicion, or at least 
curiosity, was roused. 

" Good God, sir!" said Branton to ThornhiU, "half 
the man's wife was — was — in brine, sir ! Yes, sir ! " 
gasping as he said it ; " and he confessed that — that 
— the other half he — he had — had — By Lucifer, 
sir, you must guess it ! " and he sank fainting on a 
chair. 

John " was burnt [alive ?] for murdering and 

eating his own wife." * 

* Smith, 105. Stith, 116. This fact is denied on the testimony of 
Sir Thomas Gates. The denial, very awkwardly framed, is in " The 
True Declaration," p. 16, in Force, III., — a paper issued by the Council 
in England expressly " to confute scandalous reports/' The substance 



STARVATION. 189 

And who was it that crept by night through the 
little churchyard to violate the sanctity of the grave ? 
Who was it that rifled the corpses of his own com- 
rades from the places where they had been laid to rest 
until the consummation of all things ? Who was it 
that dug there, like the hyena, to satisfy the gnaw- 
ings of his hunger ? Who was it that did this again 
and again, until he had created within himself a new 
appetite, as imperious and insatiable as it was demo- 
niacal, — whose sacrilegious craving no remonstrance 
of the living, no expressions of detestation, no threats 
of punishment, could restrain, — who was so frenzied 
by his horrid indulgence, that nothing but a felon's 
death could end it ? Some one, but we know not 
who ; for though History has recorded his enormity, 
she has refused to write his name. He was not the 
only one who did this thing, but the only one incor- 
rigible. 

After such statements, it is but a small thing to 

— . ' ■ ■ ■ 

of Gates's statement is, that the murder was instigated only by hatred, 
and that the frenzy of starvation was feigned as a palliation of the mur- 
der. But Gates was not present at Jamestown at the time, and must 
have founded his version on hearsay. 

In opposition to this, we have the best possible testimony, — the sol- 
emn declaration of " eyewitnesses and sufferers in those times/' — mem- 
bers of the legislature of Virginia in 1624. In their address in answer 
to the praises given to the administration under Sir Thomas Smith as 
Treasurer of the Company, dated February, 1624, — an address signed 
by Sir Francis Wyatt, the Governor his Council, and twenty -four 
Burgesses, nearly or quite the full number of the House, — they state 
the fact recorded in our text positively and clearly. This address is in I 
Stith, 304-307. 

Campbell (p. 30) adopts Gates's explanation ; yet, in a note, quotes 
as authority on another point this very address of the eyewitnesses. 

This paper is also our authority for the succeeding statements in our 
text. 



190 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

say, that the wretched colonists " were constrained to 
eat dogs, cats, rats, snakes, toadstools, horse-hides, 
and what not " ; it is but a small thing to believe 
that "riotous officers" punished " those who had fled 
to the savages for relief, by hanging, shooting, break- 
ing upon the wheel, and the like " ; or that a starving 
man, " for stealing two or three pints of oatmeal, had 
a bodkin thrust through his tongue, and was chained 
to a tree till he perished." * There was some temp- 
tation in such exigencies to diminish the number of 
mouths. 

Such were the terrible scenes at Jamestown in the 
spring of 1610. One after another, the wretched men 
and women and children pined, and grew frantic with 
hunger and despair. One after another they died, 
and the emaciated survivors dragged them to burial. 

It should be stated, however, that Mr. Percy, to 
whom Captain Smith had committed the govern- 
ment, was in no way responsible for the miseries of 
the colonists or the excesses of the officers. For a 
long time he had labored under violent disease, and, 
when Smith was compelled to leave, had already 
taken his passage to England. The necessities and 
importunities of the colonists prevailed upon him to 
remain. But during the whole of this dreadful time 
he was unable to rise from his bed. 

But where were the ships, and where the abun- 
dant stores, and where the stock of swine and fowls, 

* The address of the Assembly describes events covering a space of 
twelve years, and does not assign dates to the several facts which it 
specifies. But that these punishments occurred there can be no doubt ; 
and at what other period of the colony's history could they have occurred, 
than the Starving Time of 1610 ? 



STARVATION. 191 

and where the abundant means of procuring fish and 
game, which Smith had left behind ? And where were 
the Indians, with their large supplies and their ready 
hospitality; — the Indians, who had sued for peace, 
who had anxiously ratified and cemented it by eager 
liberality ? Ay ! ask rather, Where was John Smith ? 
Where was his authority, — his foresight, — his provi- 
dence, — his magic influence over the red man ? Two 
of the three vessels had left for England, " laden with 
nothing but bad reports and letters of discourage- 
ment." From the moment of Smith's departure, dis- 
order had run riot ; revolutions had followed one 
after another ; the strongest had ruled, — one set 
with their President yesterday, another set with 
their President to-day. The granaries had been 
wastefully exhausted. The people had abandoned 
themselves to such laziness, " that they would eat 
fish raw, rather than go a stone's cast to fetch wood 
and dresse it." For the same reason, they had neg- 
lected to secure and salt down, in the season, the 
sturgeon with which the river abounded, and had 
even suffered their nets to be spoiled beyond repair. 
The Indians, discovering the absence of the master- 
spirit whom they had revered and almost idolized, 
had renewed hostilities, and murdered from ambush 
every straggler from the fort. They had stolen and 
destroyed the live stock of the colonists ; they had 
spoiled their boats ; they had driven all the deer into 
distant forests ; they had withholden their corn, or 
only exchanged it, at high rates, for firelocks and 
swords. These had been insanely bartered away for 
food by the colonists, who thus gradually gave up 
both their means of defence and of hunting. The 



192 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

more they parted with their weapons, the more exor- 
bitant had grown the rates of exchange, and the more i 
bold and bloody the hostilities of the Indians. Pow- 
hattan gloried in scalps. 

Before these hostilities had become flagrant, the 
third vessel which had been left by Smith — the 
Swallow — had been sent out to procure corn from 
the Indians ; but her crew, about thirty in number, 
after procuring a large quantity, resolved upon piracy, 
and took to the high seas. 

Radcliffe, with thirty men, had then made an at- 
tempt at trade with Powhattan, upon the strength of 
the chief's invitation. " Under the color of the fairest 
friendship," the crafty savage had managed to entice 
them one by one into different houses, and thus easily 
murdered all, save one who escaped, and a boy, Henry 
Spilman, whom Pocahontas contrived to save. 

By these several means, it had come to pass by 
midwinter that the remnant of the colonists were re- 
duced to utter destitution, and the slow, wolvish 
work of famine commenced. Hence the miseries 
and horrors which we have noted. 

Starving, lamenting — even his worst enemies and 
maligners lamenting — the absence of Captain Smith, 
growing gaunt, and weak, and unpitying, and brutal, 
— some idiotic, some raving mad, shrinking to living 
skeletons before lying down to die, — thus the col- 
ony mourned and suffered, dwindled and lingered. 
Three dreadful weeks in May the survivors struggled 
on, skulking about in the woods, dodging the In- 
dians, picking berries, and digging roots, until they 
had no more hope. 

An hour or two after sunrise on the 24th of May, a 



RESCUE. 193 

faint, booming sound was heard by the despairing 
remnant, like the sound of a distant cannon. The 
men raised their drooping heads for a moment, and 
looked at one another ; but not a whispered word 
broke the sullen gloom of Jamestown. An hour 
afterwards came another sound like the first, but 
more like a real one. A few men now staggered to 
their feet and listened. They began to draw togeth- 
er, — those who could ; for in their starving jealousy, 
and even hate, each one had kept by himself. Fel- 
lowship had become obsolete. They now spoke one 
to another, in whispered monosyllables at first, they 
had become so unused to speech. " Hark ! " "A 
gun ? " " D' ye hear ? " "A tree fell." Such was 
the crusty conversation which the few attempted. 
But again and again that sound ! It was a gun! 
Some vessel must be coming up the river ! When, 
at length, a signal was given from Hog Island, by 
a few of their number who had managed to ferry 
thither, that two vessels were in sight, the settlement 
presented a most affecting scene. The poor wretches 
knew not, and cared not, whether they bore Spanish 
foes or English friends. There must be life on 
board, — humanity, — food, — plenty, — deliverance, 
— Paradise ! Enough ! enough ! The transition was 
so great and so sudden from fiendish despair to hope, 
to assurance, to feverish impatience, that some sank 
into insensibility, some leaped about wild with excite- 
ment, — here one uttering a tolerable English shout, 
there another making a most unearthly failure. All 
who could crept to the shore ; but there were many 
who could only reach their thresholds ; some, help- 
less and neglected in their dwellings, who could only 

17 



194 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

wonder at those strange noises without, so like holi 
day sounds in good old England ; some, who lay still 
and stark upon their floors, or on the open ground, 
and who could not hear. Upon the shore, some were 
looking eagerly for the coming sail ; some stood still 
and wept, and wept hysterically ; and a few calmly 
kneeled down there and gave solemn thanks to God. 

"What a meeting ! The commissioners, Gates, 
Somers, and Newport, who had constructed two 
small vessels from their wreck on the Bermudas, 
came on shore, expecting to find a home with a 
strong and prosperous colony. The handful who 
stood there, so attenuated, so shadowy, so forlorn, 
seemed like wandering ghosts on the banks of the 
Styx. The resuscitation of the settlement was de- 
bated, but abandoned ; for the vessels were deficient 
in the necessary supplies, and the miserable residents 
had no heart for anything but to escape from a place 
where they had witnessed and suffered such unspeak- 
able horrors. It was therefore promptly decided to 
gather up the fragments of humanity which remained, 
and to set their faces homeward. 

But there were preliminary tasks. There were un- 
buried dead to be put out of sight. There were men 
whose pulses scarcely beat to be revived, and only by 
the most delicate treatment ; and even those who had 
most of life were to be restrained from fatal indul- 
gence, and rendered fit by slow degrees for the ordi- 
nary fatigues of the sea. These melancholy but in- 
dispensable duties occupied fourteen days. On the 
8th day of June, the fort and hamlet, the church and 
churchyard of Jamestown, were the only relics there 
of heroic efforts and of graceless follies. 






RESCUE. 195 

Of the five hundred persons whom Smith had left 
there with all the furniture for prosperity, thirty had 
turned pirates on the sea, and the rest had been cut 
off by the Indians and by famine, except sixty who 
embarked with the commissioners, and who, had 
relief been deferred but three days longer, would also 
have been among the dead. 

The unplanted corn-field, the dismantled fort, the si- 
lent church, the deserted cabins, the uncounted graves, 
— what a governor Lord Delaware would be ! 

The moment when man's impotence is demon- 
strated is the choice and chosen moment for God's 
intervention. It is the moment for disclosing his 
careful oversight, — so little noted, yet ever and every- 
where maintained. It is the moment when his provi- 
dence is intuitively acknowledged ; when his hand is 
clearly recognized ; when his deliverance is welcomed 
and appreciated, and devoutly praised. Such was the 
exigency which we are recording. 

Elated even to intoxication, though for the moment 
only, by a salvation so critically wrought, the settlers 
dropped down the river with the tide, sorely depressed 
and murmuring that all the toils and sufferings of the 
past had been for naught. It was night when they 
glided with heavy and sullen hearts upon the bosom 
of the tranquil river. It was morning' when they 
emerged from the Hampton Roads and entered the 
broad harbor below. " A vision of white sails cheered 
their hearts! As the sun came up on the 9th of 
June, the long-boat of Lord Delaware was seen ap- 
proaching." Fresh immigrants and supplies at their 
hands, the fugitives returned to the peninsula ; and 



196 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

never perhaps was praise chanted more heartily, 
more tearfully, than before the altar in Jamestown 
on the morning of the 10th of June. 

" Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh 
in the morning." 

" How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet 
of him that bringeth tidings of good, that publisheth 
salvation, that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth ! " 

Under such circumstances, who could refrain from 
emotion at the recitation of such words ? 

Thus Lord Delaware was not governor of a deso- 
lated settlement. 

Unembarrassed by partners in his administration, 
exercising a mild but decided authority, the influence 
of his personal rank enhanced by his dignity of man- 
ner and his well-known virtues, he infused new life 
into the colony, and established moderate, but syste- 
matic labor. Good fellowship, cheerfulness, and even 
a religious sentiment, were discreetly cultivated, and 
began to pervade the settlement. Prosperity looked 
in at the gate, dispensed her gifts in moderation, and 
her inspiring influences in profusion. 

Severe sickness compelled Lord Delaware's return 
to England on the 28th of March, 1611. Percy acted 
in his stead, until the arrival of Sir Thomas Dale in 
May of the same year, who assumed the government, 
and, in the true spirit of an old soldier, as he was, 
established martial law, as directed by the Company. 

In August, Sir Thomas Gates arrived, with six 
ships, three hundred immigrants, and one hundred 
kine ; the last a wise and invaluable consignment. 
The government of the colony — now amounting to 
seven hundred men — devolved upon him. 






RESCUE. 197 

Hitherto no labor of any colonist had accrued to 
his exclusive personal advantage. Each man's ca- 
pacity to labor belonged to the community, and the 
products of his toil, whatever they might be, had been 
public property. He had not been rewarded accord- 
ing to his work and the smiles of Providence upon it, 
but according to his necessities as a unit among so 
many hundreds. He had had no personal property in 
that which his labor- produced. Now, a new order of 
things was established. Each man had garden and 
orchard set apart for his own use. An amount of 
productive industry, and of ready obedience, which 
nothing but the stimulus of self-dependence and self- 
reward could have effected, was the result. Know- 
ing that each moment of toil was a seed for his own 
harvest, one man now accomplished more than ten 
had done when laboring for the common store. 



17 



CHAPTER XIII. 

MARRYING A PEACE. 

Seventeen years had tried their skill upon 
the form and features of Pocahontas. They 
had now brought her to the verge of womanhood, and 
each one, as a parting memorial, had given her some 
fresh grace or new outline, until her dowry of beauty 
was the wonder and pride of the wilderness. The 
delicacy of her mind and the gentleness of her heart, 
though less discerned and less appreciated by her 
people, had been equally developed. The glimmer- 
ings of Christian truth which had reached her mind 
had been faint and few, yet they had imparted sym- 
metry to her character, spiritual beauty to her fea- 
tures, and placid dignity to her external life. 

Since the white chief in whose honor and protec- 
tion alone she had confided had disappeared, she had 
never ventured from the homes and presence of her 
kindred. Indeed, only once in all this time had she 
made herself known to any of the English. When, 
as has been stated, Powhattan had doomed RadclifFe 
and his party, she had glided from her wigwam, and 
led one lad from the house of slaughter to a place of 
safety. This was all she could do. 

Powhattan, in his savage humor, could not abide 
an angel of mercy even in her form, and had frowned. 
The angel could neither abide his frown nor his butch- 



MARRYING A PEACE. 199 

eries, and had fled. She now sat, an exile, in the 
lodge of her kinsman, the king of the Potomacs. He 
was a kind-hearted old man, and he loved her, partly 
for her own beauty and goodness, and partly because, 
like himself, she was a friend to the English. Japa- 
zaws had made a covenant of peace with Captain 
Smith, when on his exploring voyage through the 
Chesapeake, — to his dying day he kept the covenant, 
— and so he had given welcome and refuge to Poca- 
hontas. He owed no allegiance to Powhattan, but, 
like him, was a chief of chiefs. 

***** 

" Why should my friend be angry ? " said Captain 
Samuel Argall, as Japazaws eyed him silently, with a 
look of mingled amazement and indignation. 

" The wood-pigeon flies into my lodge. It trembles 
like the poplar-leaf. It pants for breath. Then it 
coos, and coos, and says, < Japazaws ! ' l What do 
you want, poor thing ? ' I answer. < Japazaws ! I am 
very weak and timid. I can only fly. Because I 
pity the bleeding birds and fawns in the nest of the 
eagle, he is angry. Let me hide here and rest.' Ja- 
pazaws says : ' Little trembler ! do not fear. Rest in 
my shadow as long as you will. I will spread my 
branches and my leaves over you, and you shall be 
sheltered.' And so it perches on the boughs of the 
rough old oak. It weaves its little bed, and nestles in 
it. It plumes its wings, and coos, and is happy. Shall 
Japazaws entice it into the snare of the hunter ? " 

" The king of the Potomacs does well to be angry, 
if he thinks I would harm the bird which he has prom- 
ised to shelter. Japazaws has a good heart, and the 
wisdom of many years ; but in this he is mistaken." 



200 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" Would you not put her in your cage ? Would 
she not pine there ? Would she not break her heart, 
and die ? " 

" No." 

" Then tell me what you mean. I am old, but not 
so foolish that I cannot understand the talk which is 
honest." 

" Are you not a friend of the English ? " 

« Yes." 

" Do you like to have them slain by the arrows of 
the Powhattans ? " 

« No." 

" Are you a friend of Powhattan ? " 

" Yes." 

" Do you like to have his braves killed by the guns 
of the English ? w 

" No." 

" Are you a friend of Pocahontas ? " 

" Yes." 

" Would you not like to have her and her father 
happy, sitting together once more in the same lodge, 
and in love ? " 

" Yes." 

" Now listen, Japazaws ! I ask you only to make 
all these your friends happy ; to stop the flowing of 
blood ; to light the pipe of peace for the Powhattans 
and the English ; and to bring back the loving daugh- 
ter to the home and the bosom of her father. Bring 
her to me. Let me take her to the English. We will 
say to Powhattan : < Here is your dear daughter. We 
will keep her while you remain our enemy; we will 
send her to your arms, if you will make peace.' Pow- 
hattan's heart will long for his child. He will make 



MARRYING A PEACE. 201 

peace. Then she shall go back to him, and be happy. 
The English will be happy. The Powhattans will be 
happy. There will be no more war. So Japazaws 
will do much kindness, if he lead Pocahontas to the 
big canoe of the white man." 

This conversation took place in the cabin of Argall's 
vessel, then at anchor in the Potomac, whither he had 
been sent from Jamestown to procure supplies of corn. 

Japazaws, who had not comprehended at first the 
true object of Argall's startling proposition that he 
should deliver Pocahontas into his hands, was now 
evidently impressed with its policy and plausible hu- 
manity. This Argall perceived ; and, seizing the op- 
portune moment to deepen and fix the impression, he 
turned and drew from a locker against the transom of 
the vessel a bright copper kettle, which he quietly 
placed on the table. The chief's eyes sparkled with 
admiration. 

" I do not ask my friend," continued Argall, K to do 
me a small favor, but a great one ; and it is fit that 
so kingly a transaction, one which will bring great 
warriors to be at peace, should be followed by a 
kingly gift. Let Powhattan's daughter be delivered 
to me, and let this go to the treasury of Japazaws to 
remind him that he has done what he could to make 
peace. It shall be yours when you bring Pocahontas 
here." 

The chief was mute. No words could express his 
delight in the brilliant object before him. He took 
hold of it, and another hand — seen but not felt — 
took hold of his. He looked in upon its shining bot- 
tom, and another Japazaws looked out. He laughed, 
and the chief in the kettle laughed. The gravity of 



202 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the Indian gave way entirely before the rnagic mim- 
icry of polished copper, and he abandoned himself to 
grimaces, and antics, and exclamations of wonder. 

a Japazaws ! " resumed Argall, after letting the 
charm work a little while, " that is a present fit for a 
great king. Only Powhattan has one like it. Japa- 
zaws should have one too." 

" It is wonderful ! Japazaws will give much corn." 

" Pocahontas : no corn." 

The chief's countenance suddenly fell; but, after a 
moment's silence, he said gravely, " How shall I know 
that my bird will be treated kindly ? " 

" I promise," said Argall with solemnity. 

" And how can I know that there will be peace, or 
that Pocahontas will not be unhappy with the Eng- 
lish ? " 

" There ivill be peace. Powhattan's love for Poca- 
hontas makes it sure. She will not be unhappy, for 
she loves the English, and we love her." 

" But — but " — and Japazaws pushed the tempt- 
ing object from him — " she will think me cruel and 
treacherous to make her a captive. Japazaws could 
not bear it." 

" Pocahontas will thank you for putting her in the 
way of making peace. Besides, you need not make 
her a captive : I will. Do you only persuade her 
hither. I will steal her from you ; and you can be 
very much amazed, and grieved, and broken-hearted, 
and angry. Could n't you en/, Japazaws ? and 
could n't you threaten war?" 

The chief's last and paramount difficulty was re- 
moved by this suggestion : he could throw dust in 
the eyes of Pocahontas. 



MARRYING A PEACE. 203 

" There shall be peace ! " he exclaimed, " for Pow- 
hattan's sake ; for Pocahontas' sake ; for the sake of 
all. And Japazaws shall have the copper kettle too ! " 
And he bestowed a most idolatrous look upon the 
magnificent object.* 

The chief was paddled to the shore by his men. 
With a parting signal thence of assurance to Captain 
Argall, he turned his face towards his distant lodge, 
and disappeared in the forest. 

The face of the country on either side of the river 
was undulating. Many of the hills were planted, and 
yielded both plenty and variety of fruits. About " six 
myles vp the woodes " from the river, and on a cleared 
eminence commanding a pleasant view, was the resi- 
dence of the chief. Here was a cultivated tract of land, 
of about a hundred and fifty or two hundred acres, most 
of the standing trees having been deprived of foliage 
and life, partly by bruising the bark with hatchets of 
stone, and partly by " scortching the roots with fire that 
they grow no more." The turf and diminutive growth 
had been broken up " with a crooked peece of wood," 
and thus the ground was prepared for seed. Over this 
little farm — or, rather, this series of gardens — lay the 
dwellings of the residents, scattered here and there in 
clusters, separated by small and shady groves. Upon 
one side of this clearing, and bordering upon the for- 
est, lay the village proper, or fortress, an enclosure of 
perhaps an acre or more, consisting of palisades firmly 
planted in the ground, and having but one opening 

* " The prospect of a treaty by means of Pocahontas probably turned 
the balance in his mind. The bright copper kettle was a subordinate 
consideration, though not a slight one." — Thacher. 



204 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

for passage. "Within this, and hard upon the wall, 
were several buildings consisting of stout upright poles 
drawn securely together at the top, and covered neatly, 
and weather-proof, with barks of trees, reeds, or mat- 
ting. One of these, standing by itself and distin- 
guished by its style and by its length of a hundred and 
fifty feet, was the dwelling of Japazaws. 

On the morning after his conference with Argall, 
he sat, just within the entrance, employing his royal 
hands and craft in making arrows. A few slender 
reeds lay near him upon the ground, fragments of 
crystallized quartz, and the sharp spurs of turkeys. 
With his knife, made of the splinter of a reed, he had 
just trimmed the feathers of an arrow, and was now 
securing a pointed crystal for its head. His wife was 
seated upon a narrow platform reared against the side 
of the hut, and elevated a little more than a foot from 
the ground. Being a royal residence, and somewhat 
magnificent in its plan, the hut was divided into no 
less than five compartments. From one of these Poc- 
ahontas had just made her appearance, clad in a 
short robe of deer-skin delicately dressed, dyed, fringed, 
and tastefully ornamented with a sort of beads made 
from the pearly shell of the oyster. It was held to- 
gether about the waist by a neatly clasped girdle of 
English workmanship, a memorial of Captain Smith. 
Across her shoulders, and hanging in front, floated a 
loose scarf, a gift from the same hand, as were also a 
few other ornaments which glittered upon her person. 
Her hair, which was long, abundant, and of finer tex- 
ture than was usual with her people, was kept back 
from her forehead by a fanciful band of native manu- 
facture, and ornamented with a string of native pearls, 



MARRYING A PEACE. 



205 



contrasting finely with the jet-black tresses with which 
they were interwoven. Her movement was light and 
animated, and her countenance cheerful, yet a careful 
eye would have detected there a shade of sadness. 
Although with kind friends, she felt her homelessness. 
She longed for those paternal caresses which she once 
monopolized as " Powhattan's dearest daughter." 

There had been no immediate conversation between 
the royal couple save casual remarks upon trivial mat- 
ters, for they had planned their operations the night 
before. But the moment Pocahontas made her ap- 
pearance, Japazaws exclaimed, with surly energy, 
addressing his wife : " Keep in your own lodge : you 
are not a man." 

"What am I?" 

" A woman." 

"What else?" 

" Nothing." 

" Nothing ! " she retorted in a quick, sharp tone. 
" I am the wife of Japazaws ! " 

" Well, ' wife,' then. And for what ? To go on 
the war-path ? To run after strangers ? To sit with 
great chiefs ? No ! To plant my corn, and cook my 
food, and bear my children. Be content." 

" Have I not done it all, — all ? and for years, and 
years, and years ? " she rejoined, rising and striding 
about with passionate gestures. " Take warning, 
child ! " turning to Pocahontas. " A young brave will 
come, with a present in his hand and a smile on his 
lip, and say : i Pocahontas ! you are lovely as the even- 
ing star ; you are graceful as the fawn ; you are a 
beam of light from the Great Spirit. Be the light of 
my lodge, and the life of my life.' So you become 

18 



206 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

his wife. Then he says : ' Plant my corn ; weed my 
corn ; pound my corn ; cook my corn ; bear my chil- 
dren ! ' And when you are old, and have planted, 
and cooked, and borne children, ask of him a gift, or 
a smile, or a day of pleasure, or some other little de- 
light, and he will snap, and growl, and say : ' Keep in 
your lodge, old woman ; work, and plant, and dig.' 
He '11 natter you to get you ; he '11 get you to use 
you; and when you are old, he '11 spurn — spurn — 
spurn you ! " 

The woman seemed wrought almost to frenzy ; but 
Japazaws whittled away at his arrow-work, and re- 
plied to her torrent of words only by a contemptuous 
grunt. 

Now the old couple had seemed to Pocahontas not 
only to live in peace, but in love, and she was utterly 
amazed at their sharp and sudden quarrel. With 
wonder in her eyes, she gently asked the cause of her 
hostess's grief. 

" O, it is nothing, child ! — only an old wife would 
like to see the white man's big canoe, and big guns, 
and other wonderful things, and the old Ghief is cross 
about it. He says, ' No,' because, you see, an old 
man can find no greater pleasure than to torment a 
faithful, worn-out wife. It 's the way of the men, Poc- 
ahontas ! " 

The maiden smiled incredulously, although she 
was grieved at the distress of her kind protectress. 
Hoping to soothe her, she said : l The white man's 
canoes are only big. It is hardly worth so long a 
walk to see one. I will tell you all about them, if 
Japazaws will not let you go. But perhaps he will. 
Will you not, Japazaws ? " 



MARRYING A PEACE. 207 

M Pocahontas ! " replied the chief, " she does not 
want to see the big canoe. If she was old and ugly 
as you, she would wish to stay at home ; but as 
she is so young and so handsome, she wants to be 
seen. O yes ! she wants to go. But she sha' n't. 
Do you think I would risk having my beautiful wife 
run away with some young English lover ? Japazaws 
is too cunning." 

Satire and irony both appeared to be too much for 
the woman's nerves to bear, and she began to weep. 

" Ugh ! there come the women's weapons ! " ex- 
claimed the chief, mimicking a groan. " We men 
can get along with scolding and the pouts, Poca- 
hontas ; but when a lovely woman takes to tears, 
woe to the man she cries at ! " 

Then, turning sharply to his wife : " You had bet- 
ter stop, my pet ! my sweet ! The salt waters will 
spoil your beauty ; then you could ytit go to the canoe. 
Stop, I say ! You won't ? Well, if you ivill spoil a 
face so charming, don't do it before my eyes. I have 
a very tender heart, and could n't bear to see it. So 
get out of my sight ! D' you hear ? " 

The woman persisted in weeping, and advanced 
even to sobs and moans ; but she did not move. 

" Getting noisy ! " exclaimed her lord, passionately. 
" Out of my sight, I say ! Ah ! you won't ? " spring- 
ing to his feet, and grasping a stout cudgel. 

The movement was enough. The woman disap- 
peared in a twinkling, leaving the field to Japazaws 
and Pocahontas. 

" Hush, child, hush ! " said the chief, perceiving 
that his guest was about to intercede. " It is only 
a silly whim of hers. There is no reason in it. She 



208 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

shall not go ; so don't say one word. She '11 forget 
it herself to-morrow." 

But to-morrow came, and with it a like scene, only- 
more violent. The third day it was enacted again, 
with still more grievous embellishments. The cudgel 
was threatened, but in vain. The tears flowed so 
largely, and the importunity was so annoying, that 
the fortitude of the husband gave way. 

« Well," said he, at last, " I should like a little 
peace at home. I am willing to take the trouble to 
go with you. It 's only the effect of your charms 
upon the pale-faces that I fear. Now if our good, 
discreet Pocahontas, who we all know has no charms 
of her own to take care of, or to do mischief with, 
will only go to protect yours, or to help me in pro- 
tecting them, perhaps I shall get you home safe ; and 
then we shall have an end of this brawling and blub- 
bering." 

" O, I will go with all my heart ! " replied Poca- 
hontas, completely deceived by this well-acted farce, 
and distressed by such altercations. " I will do any- 
thing to please you. You are so land, — so kind to 
a poor girl like me ! and I should be ashamed to be 
ungrateful." 

" But do you think, child, that it will be safe ? 
Shall we be able to protect so much loveliness ? " 
pointing, with a sneer, to the tanned and furrowed 
face of his weeping wife. 

Pocahontas smiled. " O yes ! I do not fear the 
whites. They are good to me. They will respect 
me, and any one who is my friend and companion." 

" Well, well, we shall see," said Japazaws, shuffling 
his way out of the hut ; " but it would be a sad thing 



MARRYING A PEACE. 209 

if an old man like me should lose — should lose such 
a — such a — " And, with a loud laugh, he prepared 
" to lead his bird into the snare of the hunter." 

" Thus they betraied the poore innocent Pocahon- 
tas aboord." 

Bitterly did she weep, when told by Captain Argall 
that she was his prisoner, and must go with him to 
Jamestown. " Whereat the old lew and his wife 
began to howle and crie as fast as Pocahontas " ; 
though once out of her sight, " with the kettle and 
other toies, they went merrily on shore." 

Pocahontas was soon composed, and even con- 
tented, when she found that she was treated with 
true consideration and kindness, and particularly 
when she clearly understood that her capture was 
merely an expedient, and a rational one, for effecting 
a peace with her father. 

Upon her arrival at Jamestown, a little by-play 
was commenced, — such as most men and women 
have shared in sooner or later in life. It seemed an 
insignificant affair ; but it was not. It began in a 
religious way, yet it had more substance and more 
influence than most men's religion. There was a 
young Englishman there, " an honest gentleman and 
of good behauior," whose name was John Rolfe. 
When he saw this fair flower of the wilderness, he 
was suddenly impressed with the mournful truth that 
the colonists hitherto had been so engrossed in do- 
mestic brawls, and in the vulgar business of merely 
supporting existence, that they had neglected one 
professed object of their enterprise, — the conversion 
of the heathen. Poor Master Hunt had had more 

18* 



210 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

than he could do to keep men converted ; or, in 
Smith's words, " to make good Christians and good 
subjects of those that counterfeited themselves both." 
To be sure, " Master "Whitaker had chosen and im- 
paled a faire framed Parsonage and one hundred 
acres called Rockehall," farther up the river, opposite 
to the settlement called Henrico, which Dale had 
commenced the year before ; and here " the Apostle 
of Virginia had assisted in bearing the name of God 
to the gentiles." Yet little had been effected ; and, 
as we have said, Master Rolfe was forcibly reminded 
of the lack of missionary labor, the moment he set 
eyes on the beautiful heathen maiden who came a 
captive to Jamestown. At least, so we argue from 
his behavior. He instantly assumed the vocation of 
a Christian teacher ; not in public, to be sure, — for 
he was no canonical, — but in private, and with only 
one pupil. Pocahontas was " quick and docile," and 
had before gathered some crumbs which had fallen 
to her from the Master's table. It was pleasant to 
teach so fair a specimen of Nature's handiwork, and 
one so unsophisticated, so amiable, so impressible, 
— very pleasant. Doubtless it was pleasant to be 
taught. 

At any rate, while he was training her innate faith 
and love upward and heavenward, his own, some- 
how, became the trellis upon which, like young and 
tender vines, they clambered. Thus the affections of 
teacher and pupil became so entangled, the faith and 
love of each toward Heaven were so woven in with 
faith and love toward one another, — in other words, 
these two young hearts became so effectually inter- 
twined, — that there was no such thing as separating 



MARRYING A PEACE. 211 

them. They found it out one day, — whether on 
some fresh and sparkling morning, or in some placid 
moonlight evening, is of no importance, — but they 
found it out. They happened to look into each 
other's eyes. Rolfe saw a little image of himself in 
hers, and Pocahontas saw a little image of herself 
in his, — and just as plain ! Here was a dilemma ! 
What should they do now ? They could not u?ido. 
O no ! neither of them thought of that for a moment. 
The first thing they did was, with some trepidation, 
" to confess their faults one to another," — a duty 
which they chanced to discover while reading the 
fifth chapter of the General Epistle of James. This 
done, there was a tacit understanding between them 
for the present, that they would just make the best of 
their entanglement ; that the one would by no means 
reproach the other ; in short, that they would peace- 
fully grow upward and heavenward — tog-ether. A 
wise conclusion ! And, as they could find no Chris- 
tian precept for publishing their case just now, they 
said not a word about it for some time, except when 
they were alone, — and then, you know, they could n't 
help it. 

In the mean time, the great folks, — Sir Thomas 
Gates, the Governor, and Sir Thomas Dale, — who 
could not descend to such paltry things as young 
people's hearts, were busying themselves with mat- 
ters of state. They were going to effect a treaty of 
peace. They were going to bring Powhattan to 
terms. They had got the proud chief's pearl of 
great price in their hands, the darling of his gray 
age, the delight and pride of his eyes; and they 
would pull at the old man's heart-strings till they 



212 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

cracked, or wrench from him a treaty of peace. It 
should be done genteelly, though. So they sent an 
embassy to him, saying " that his daughter Poca- 
hontas he loved so dearly" was their prisoner, — a 
word which rasped his heart. But, they added, they 
had their price for her, namely, all the English pris- 
oners, and all the English arms and tools, in his 
possession. If he would restore these, they would 
restore his daughter ; otherwise, they would keep 
her. 

But Powhattan was not a man to be bullied. It 
wrung his soul that his pet child should be held cap- 
tive by men in whose tender mercies he had no con- 
fidence ; but he had the dignity of a king in his 
keeping, as well as the feelings of a father. The 
sturdy chief could suffer, but he could not bend to 
dictation. Besides, the English captives which he 
had were invaluable to him as mechanics. He 
therefore disdained to reply long enough to show 
that he was not to be pricked into terms. Three 
months after the overture, he sent seven English 
captives to Jamestown, each with an unserviceable 
musket ; also an axe, a saw, and one canoe laden 
with corn. With these came a message, that, if his 
daughter should be restored, he would make satisfac- 
tion for all injuries done to the colonists, send them 
five hundred bushels of corn, and be their friend for 
ever. In reply, he was told that what he had sent 
would be kept as part payment of the ransom de- 
manded ; but that other arms and other prisoners 
which he had must be returned also before Poca- 
hontas should be liberated. It was added, however, 
that she should be kindly treated. At this Pow- 



MARRYING A PEACE. 213 

h'attan was indignant. It was the end of all nego- 
tiation and diplomacy on his part. 

The Governor and Council now resolved „__ 

1613 
upon another step. They would send his 

daughter to his door ; if he would not then deliver 
what was demanded for her ransom, they would resort 
to force. Having waited till the spring of 1613, Sir 
Thomas Dale was sent to Werowocomoco in Argall's 
ship, with a hundred and fifty men, well armed, and 
having Pocahontas in charge. Rolfe went with them, 
of course. They were received with defiance by the 
Powhattans ; but, after some skirmishing and hut- 
burning, a truce was agreed upon for one day. This 
brief time was diligently improved. Master Rolfe 
and Master Sparkes were sent to Powhattan, and 
two brothers of Pocahontas visited her on shipboard. 

The result was nothing but a promise from Ope- 
chancanough, (the messengers were not admitted to 
the presence of Powhattan,) and another from the 
two brothers, that they would urge Powhattan to 
accede to the overtures and terms of the English. 
With these bald promises Dale was obliged to con- 
tent himself, — for the time for planting having come, 
he had no leisure for fighting. He therefore returned 
to Jamestown, consenting to wait Powhattan's humor 
until the harvest. 

Thus far, both the diplomacy and the generalship 
of the dignitaries had been foiled by a heathen savage, 
who had strength of character enough to curb the 
impulses of his own heart, and craft enough for a 
reserved and temporizing policy. To negotiate and 
to conquer a peace the great folks had failed. The 
lesser ones now took the matter in hand. Pocahon- 



214 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

tas confided her love to her brother Nantaquas, — 
"the most manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit," said 
Smith, " I ever saw in a savage." Rolfe eonfided 
his to Sir Thomas Dale. 

" There is but one remedy," said Dale. 

" There is only one," said Gates. 

" Only one," said Powhattan. 

" Precisely one," said Rolfe. 

Pocahontas said nothing in particular ; at least, 
nothing aloud. But she never contradicted Rolfe. 

So within ten days, "the remedy" — a very simple 
though a very serious ceremony — was applied. Pow- 
hattan sent Opachisco, an old uncle of Pocahontas, as 
his deputy, and also two of his sons, to see " the man- 
ner of the marriage, and to doe in that behalfe what 
they were requested, for the confirmation thereof." It 
was solemnized before the altar at Jamestown, and 
according to the rites of the Church of England, early 
in the month of April.* 

Now " an oath for confirmation is to men an end 
of all strife." Here was an oath, — a marriage oath 
to be sure ; but in that consisted its peculiar charm 
and efficacy ; for it involved a pledge of amity and 
fidelity between all the parties concerned. It was a 
bond of union, an alliance of interests, between two 
families, — the English and the Powhattans. Thus 
a peace was a matter of course. It was not agreed 
upon ; it was understood. It involved no compulsion, 

* Some time previous to her marriage, " before the font which was 
hewn out of the trunk of a tree, hollowed into the shape of a canoe, the 
Princess Pocahontas had openly renounced her country's idolatry, pro- 
fessed the faith of Jesus Christ, and been baptized" by the name of 
Rebecca. — Lippincott's Cabinet History. 



MARRYING A PEACE. 215 

no repulsive terms, nothing derogatory to the kingly- 
honor of Powhattan. Nothing was said, or done, 
about * treaty, nothing about restoration, nothing 
about reparation. The parties did not dictate, or 
stipulate, or buy, or conquer, a peace. They married 
it. " I do thee wed " was " the end of all strife." 
" And euer since " — since the marriage — "wee haue 
had friendly trade and commerce, as well with Pow- 
hattan himselfe as all his subjects." Such is the 
record, and nothing more. 

But besides this, and because of this,* the tribe of 
the Chickahominies — "a lusty and daring people, 
free of themselves " — voluntarily proposed a treaty 
of friendship and alliance, which was promptly ef- 
fected ; they paying a small annual tribute, claiming 
to be called Englishmen and true subjects of King 
James and his deputies, and receiving from the Eng- 
lish a pledge of protection against any enemy what- 
soever. This also was an effect of Pocahontas's 
marriage. 

What the governor and his advisers, the captains 
and their soldiers, tried to do, but could not, was 
thus taken out of their hands, commenced anew in 
the school-room of the Gospel of Christ, and finally 
perfected and ratified at the altar. What the law of 
coercion could not do, in that it was weak through 
the inborn wilfulness of Powhattan, Divine Provi- 
dence did. Sending Love, in the begotten likeness 
of that wilful man, it condemned and made of none 



* "All this was rather for f'eare Powhattan and we, being so linked 
together, would bring them againe to his subiection ; the which to pre- 
vent, they did rather chuse to be protected by vs, than tormented by 
him, whom they held a tyrant." — Smith, 114. 



216 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

effect his wilfulness ; so that the righteous end sought 
by that law was fulfilled in those who walked not in 
wilfulness, but in the spirit of Love. " 'She law 
made nothing perfect ; but the bringing in of a bet- 
ter hope did." 



CHAPTER XIV. 

ANNALS. — THE ASSEMBLY. — WIVES. — SERVANTS. — 
PROSELYTING. 

A code of "Lawes Divine, Morall, and 1A1Q -xa 
Martiall," of which the groundwork had 
been laid by Lord Delaware, was " settled " under the 
administration of Gates ;* a code alike remarkable for 
its details and its penalties. It enjoined frequenting the 
church, the observance of the Sabbath, reverence for the 
clergy and all superiors, seemliness of speech and of 
behavior, and punished with severity the dishonoring of 
God, sacrilege, felonies, and various sensual crimes. f 

* " The New Life of Virginia," p. 13 ; in Force, Vol. I. 

t In Force, Vol. III. As the laws of the early settlers in New Eng- 
land have been so often tauntingly referred to as indicative of a savage 
spirit peculiar to Puritanism, it may not be amiss to notice the laws 
which at this time existed in Virginia under the regimen of Episcopacy. 
The reader will find them at large in Force. We give an abstract of a 
few. 

For speaking impiously or maliciously against the Trinity, or against 
the known articles of the Christian faith, or deridingly of the Bible, 
death. 

For blasphemy, death. 

For unlawful oaths, or taking the name of God in vain, first offence, 
" severe punishment " ; second offence, a bodkin thrust through the 
tongue ; third offence, death. 

For disrespect to a preacher, " to be openly whipt three times, and to 
ask publicke forgivenesse three seueral Saboth daies." 

For omitting to attend divine service twice a day in the church, first 
offence, loss of " dayes allowance " of food ; second offence, whipping ; 
third offence, the galleys for six months. 

For the neglect of private or family prayer, for neglect of divine ser- 
19 



218 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

In 1613, the five years expired which the king, in 
his instructions, had prescribed for trade in common 
stock, and for bringing the whole fruit of their labors 
into common storehouses. Sir Thomas Dale, under 
the magistracy of Gates, took advantage of this fact, 
and introduced changes by which the colonists began 
to acquire property in the soil, and property in time ; 
in each more or less, according, probably, to the cir- 
cumstances of their immigration. Every man — as 
noticed at the close of our twelfth chapter — had at 
least three acres of land, to be cultivated at his option, 
and for his personal benefit. This allotment was 
accompanied with an allowance to each holder, per 
year, of one month of his time, and two bushels of 
corn from the public stock ; for which he must render 
eleven months of labor for the store. But as early as 
1617, the number of this class was reduced to fifty- 
four, men, women, and children. 



vice on the Sabbath, and for neglect of catechising, first offence, loss of 
provision and allowance for the whole week following ; second offence, 
loss of said allowance, and whipping; third offence, death. 

For rape and fornication, first offence, whipping ; second offence, 
whipping ; third offence, three whippings a week for a month, and to 
"aske publique forgiuenesse in the assembly of the congregation" 
— only ! 

For evil words against the Council of the Company in England, or 
any of their officers, or against the endeavors or intentions of the Com- 
pany, or against any books which they might see fit to publish, first 
offence, three whippings, and to ask forgiveness en the knees in public 
on the Sabbath ; second offence, the galleys for three years ; third 
offence, death. 

For throwing slops or rinsing a kettle within certain prescribed limits, 
"whipping, and further punishment as shall be thought meete by the 
censure of a martiall court." 

Such legislation was not characteristic of Puritanism or of Episco- 
pacy : it was characteristic of the age. 






ANNALS. 219 

The settlers at New Bermuda, — five miles from 
Henrico, and on the river Appamattuck, — and some 
others, rendered but one month's service, but not in 
seed-time or harvest, and two and a half barrels of 
corn. 

Sir Thomas Gates returned to England in March, 
1614, leaving the government of the colony in the 
hands of Sir Thomas Dale. 

Dale's administration, although rigorously martial, 
was distinguished also for good judgment. With in- 
defatigable perseverance, and almost miraculously, he 
reclaimed the idle and dissolute " to labor and an hon- 
est fashion of life." He was particularly careful for 
the planting of corn ; and succeeded to the extent, 
that he largely supplied the necessities of the Indians. 
The cultivation of tobacco now commenced ; and such 
was the eagerness of the colonists in this new experi- 
ment, that Dale found it necessary to interfere. He 
forbade the setting of any tobacco, until a certain 
quantity of ground, to each person in a household, 
had first been planted with corn. 

No other incidents worthy of particular notice oc- 
curred during his government, which continued until 
the spring of 1616 ; when he sailed for England, in 
company with Rolfe and Pocahontas, and left " Cap- 
tain George Yeardley to be deputy-governor in his 
absence." 

Yeardley had neither the controlling efficiency nor 
the wisdom of his predecessor ; consequently the colo- 
nists gave the rein to their new conceit for the culture 
of tobacco. Indeed, the Governor himself partook of 
the popular enthusiasm. Hitherto a revenue had 
been sought for by the manufacture of clapboards 



220 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

and wainscoting, potash and tar, soap and glass, by 
the cultivation of the vine, and the exportation of 
yellow earth. But for all except the first two of 
these, the cost had been greater than the receipts. 
Yeardley now directed the colonists to the cultivation 
of tobacco, " as the most present commoditie they 
could deuise for a present game." In this there was 
soon as much eagerness as formerly there had been in 
hunting gold. The people had no interruption through 
fear of the Indians. Indeed, such was their sense of 
security, that they admitted the daily visits, not only 
of the Powhattans and the Chickahominies, but of 
" divers other nations," who sometimes guided the 
English on hunting excursions, and sometimes hunted 
for them. Yeardley unwisely trained, and allowed 
others to train, several Indians to the expert use of 
the musket, that they might provide food for the table. 
The intercourse between the natives and the colo- 
nists was thus free and unrestrained during the whole 
twelvemonth of Yeardley's administration. 

Heretofore every immigrant, and every one who 
had introduced immigrants at his own expense, had 
been entitled to a hundred acres of land, personal 
adventure, for each, — the land to be set off at some 
future day, — which was the utmost that could be 
granted in any single share. But such prosperity 
had accrued through the means and influence of Sir 
Thomas Dale, that less bounty was thought sufficient 
inducement for settlers. Now, therefore, but fifty 
acres' bounty was offered to future immigrants, and to 
those who, previously to June 24th, 1625, should de- 
fray the expenses of immigrants, with the privilege of 
adding thereto, when occupied and cultivated, fifty 



ANNALS. 221 

acres more. Lands might also be granted to any 
person who might have been a special benefactor to 
the Company or to the colony, but not exceeding two 
thousand acres. Besides, every person who should 
pay twelve and a half pounds sterling into the treas- 
ury of the Company could obtain a title to a hundred 
acres. 

Captain Samuel Argall arrived in May, 1617, em- 
powered by the Company to act as Deputy-Governor. 
With the sole and sinister design of securing to him- 
self and his abettors sudden and enormous profits, at 
whatever expense of humanity or honesty, he had 
been appointed to this post of trust and power through 
the intrigues and desperate efforts of a faction headed 
by Lord Rich, soon afterwards created Earl of War- 
wick. Argall and Rich were pocket-partners in the 
scheme to wring money from the colonial enterprise. 
The better to secure their end, Argall was also consti- 
tuted Admiral of the country and seas adjoining. He 
was received by " Yeardley and his companie in a 
martiall order, whose right-hand file was led by an 
Indian." Yeardley immediately returned to England. 

The colony was now in a singular condition. 
There were about four hundred settlers in the coun- 
try, and they had a live stock of a hundred and twen- 
ty-eight cattle, eighty-eight goats, and innumerable 
swine ; and " in some places good plenty of corne.' , 
But the people were scattered everywhere, possessed 
with a mania for the cultivation of tobacco. Every- 
thing else was neglected. Indians were as often in 
the houses as the planters themselves ; they had a 
great many English arms in their possession, and were 
skilled in their use. In Jamestown there were remain- 

19* 



222 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ing but four or five houses ; the palisades were not 
sufficient to keep out the hogs ; the well of fresh water 
was spoiled ; the church had tumbled down, and the 
storehouse was used in its stead. The market-place 
was overgrown with tobacco. The streets were rank 
with tobacco. Every nook and corner was usurped 
by tobacco. The whole population, in town and coun- 
try, on plantations and on bits of choice land in the 
wilds, planted it, nursed it, cured it, talked about it by 
day, and dreamed about it by night. 

The dilapidation of the colony Argall set himself 
to repair ; the people of the colony, to tyrannize over 
and oppress. Constituted both military and naval 
commander, and ruling where the only law was mar- 
tial law, and being himself an avaricious, exacting, 
arbitrary man, he had all the apparatus and qualities 
of a despot, and was admirably fitted for the purposes 
for which his election had been obtained. He proved 
it. Extortion and oppression were the watchwords of 
his policy. He monopolized the trade with the In- 
dians for his own benefit ; he forced the tenants, the 
servants, the ships, of the Company, and the old plant- 
ers also, upon his own employments ; he embezzled 
the public cattle and stores ; he tried by court-martial, 
and condemned to death, one Captain Brewster, for 
endeavoring to withdraw from Argall's business the 
servants on Lord Delaware's plantation, whom Brew- 
ster had in charge ; * for trifling offences he condemned 
the colonists to confiscations and to limited servitude ; 

* Some of the court, joining with the clergy, after much entreaty 
prevailed with Argall to spare the life of Brewster. The latter appealed 
to the Treasurer and Company in England, by whom he was promptly 
and honorably acquitted. Stith, 153, 182. 



ANNALS. 223 

and even innocent persons he capriciously subjected 
to punishment. " Complaints were repaide with 
stripes ; moneys, with scoffs ; and tortures were made 
delights." 

This intolerable state of things continued until 
about the 1st of April, 1619, when a little pinnace 
arrived privately from England for Captain Argall. 
She was sent by his noble accomplice, now the Earl 
of Warwick ; and her despatches informed him that 
his tyranny and malpractices had come to the knowl- 
edge of the Company, that the pinnace was sent for 
his escape, and that he had better use her accordingly. 
He did so ; and " within foure or five daies " was off, 
leaving Captain Powell as his deputy. But, though 
he went to England and braved investigation, through 
the intrigues and influence of Warwick he escaped 
un whipped. 

On the 18th, ten or twelve days afterwards, Yeard- 
ley — now Sir George — arrived, having been ap- 
pointed Captain- General of the colony in place of 
Lord Delaware, who had died in 1618, on his way to 
resume the duties of his office in Virginia. The colo- 
nists were ravished with joy at then: deliverance from 
tyranny, and by the news that ample supplies, which 
they much needed, were on the way. " They thought 
themselves now fully satisfied for their long toil and 
labors, and as happy men as any in the world." 

Hitherto the colonists had been more or less the 
serfs of a mercantile corporation, and precluded from 
all political rights in the community which they con- 
stituted. Since the establishment of martial law by 
Dale in 1611, — a measure for which there seem to 
have been imperative reasons, — they had not had, 



224 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

even under accusations for capital offences, the right 
of trial by jury. " The necessities of the times, the 
ignorance of the people, and the oppression and tyran- 
ny of their governors, had thus far deprived them of 
the liberties and privileges of Englishmen, to which 
they had a right by the charters of the Company." 
But now the bondage was at an end. Every vestige 
of serf-dues was swept away; tribute of corn and 
tribute of labor, from the planters, were at an end ; 
each man had the shares of land due to him set off, to 
hold and to enjoy, to him and his heirs ; they held 
property of every sort by a tenure as secure and as in- 
dependent as if residents in England ; the Governor, 
no longer a despotic official, but under the check of a 
Council, could do wrong to no man who might not 
have speedy remedy ; the forms of justice and trial by 
jury were established ; and the statute law of Eng- 
land took the place of martial law. These changes 
were made by Yeardley in virtue of powers vested in 
him by the Company, and expressly for these pur- 
poses. 

But this was not all. The colonists* were even 
called upon to share in the high matter of legislation. 
This Yeardley did without authority, though he proba- 
bly knew that he was acting according to the spirit 
which now pervaded the Company. He convoked 
an Assembly of Representatives, which met in June, 
and " debated all matters thought expedient for the 
good of the colony." " The people were divided into 
boroughs or townships," eleven in number, each of 
which sent two Representatives. These, together 
with the Governor and Council, — which he had or- 
ganized immediately upon, his arrival, — constituted 



THE ASSEMBLY. 225 

the First Colonial Assembly of North America; 
the grain of seed since become a tree, beneath which 
all the nations of the earth gather together and rest. 

Although the acts of this Assembly could not be 
authoritative and binding without being ratified by 
the London Company, and although it does not ap- 
pear that the ratification took place, yet their moral 
influence was incalculable. It was " a shadow of 
good things to come." The Virginians had plucked 
of the tree of the knowledge of political good and 
evil, but had hitherto only tasted of its fruit. Now 
they had broken its bitter rind, and penetrated to its 
grateful pulp. It was their first discovery of the good, 
and they never forgot it. It quickened within them 
an instinct heretofore repressed and paralyzed. It 
brought a Hercules from embryo life to infancy, des- 
tined to throttle the serpent. Though it had placed 
the people only in the outer porch of the temple of 
Liberty, it had opened their eyes to the glories within, 
and they never went back. Like a draught from the 
cup of the gods, it darted through their veins, a palpi- 
tating current, which they have transmitted, undegen- 
erated, unabated, and uncooled, to the present gener- 
ation. 

May not even an accumulation of metaphor be 
pardoned, when inscribing and pondering the initia- 
tory act of American Independence ? 

The inspiration of these several events was imme- 
diately felt. The colonists began to call what they 
labored for, their own ; with right good-will they built 
houses, and displayed satisfaction and honest pride in 
their construction ; they held the plough with cheer- 
fulness and zeal, and wielded the hoe with alacrity ; 



226 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

in short, they set themselves with manly vigor to 
every practicable form of productive industry, and 
"the colony began to have the face and fashion of 
an orderly state." " Our greatest possible thankes to 
the Company for the care that hath beene taken for 
the setting of the Plantation," was passed in their 
Assembly by acclamation. 

Sir Edwin Sandys, this year the Treasurer of the 
London Company, and upon whom the burden of 
their affairs officially devolved, a man of remarkable 
energy and shrewdness, was ardently and even hero- 
ically devoted to the interests of the colony. Ear- 
nestly revolving in his mind the great problem of 
its prosperity and permanence, instead of consulting 
ledgers, lottery schemes,* or mercantile speculators, 
he threw himself upon his own resources as a 
man of common sense, and surveyed the actual 
condition of the colonists in the light of humanity 
and nature. 

To a mind in this attitude, it was obvious at a 
glance that as yet there was no organization of true 
society in Virginia ; that its natural and essential 
element, the inspiring and conservative influence of 
woman, was wanting. " He wondered not," he 
said, in a great and general quarter-meeting of the 
Company in November, " that the people of Virginia 



* The first lottery ever known in the kingdom of Great Britain was 
granted for the Company, when Sir Thomas Smith was their Treasurer, 
to aid their Virginia enterprise. Smith, 117. Stith, 138. Hume. Chap. 
XLIX., Appendix. The grant was contained in Articles XVI. -XIX. 
of the third charter of James to the Company, dated March 12th, 1611-2, 
and may he found in Stith, Appendix No. III. 



wives. 227 

were not settled in their minds, nor intended to make 
it the place of their rest and continuance. He won- 
dered not that they proposed, after having got some 
wealth, to return again to England, nor that such 
restlessness tended to the utter overthrow and disso- 
lution of the plantation. The men had nothing to fix 
and settle them upon the soil. They had no homes, 
in the true English sense ; no family ties to the glebe 
on which they sojourned ; no endearing associations 
between their hearts and the visible objects around 
them. But very few Englishwomen had been there, 
for men would not take wives to a foreign wilder- 
ness, where they themselves purposed only an uncer- 
tain residence." Such were the arguments by which 
he earnestly enforced his " third proposition " to the 
assembled Company, " that one hundred maids, young 
and uncorrupt, should be sent over the next spring to 
make wives for the inhabitants." 

Accordingly, ninety young women of good 1 ^ or4 
character and aspect were persuaded to go " to 
make wives," and were sent out early in 1620. So 
well did this consignment succeed, (of course it 
would !) that the next year sixty more were sent for 
the same benign and politic purpose. 

Great must have been the amazement, and great 
the welcome, with which this novel merchandise was 
greeted on the shores of Virginia by the wifeless 
tenants of her soil. The devotees of tobacco even 
dropped their hoes and deserted their pet plants, so 
eager were they to inspect and appropriate the new 
importation. Maidens who came purposely and pro- 
fessedly " to make wives " need not be approached 
with bashfulness, or won by the mystic arts of court- 



228 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ship. So they were all quickly bespoken. Yet they 
were not to be had for the mere bespeaking. They 
were " merchandise." They were for sale. If any 
one was married to a tenant, or farmer, of any public 
land, he could have her freely ; the Company would 
defray the charges of her transportation. To others 
who were freemen and tenants, — servants should not 
have any, — they were for sale. Their expenses must 
be paid at least ; perhaps, too, something for choice- 
money, and something for the profit of the shippers* 
But what were such considerations to men who could 
be thus diverted from their absorbing pursuit? only 
" they had no money " ! " What then ? They had 
tobacco." " Would the shippers receive tobacco ? " 
" Yes, they would receive tobacco, — a hundred and 
twenty pounds for a young, comely, uncorrupt maid- 
en, well recommended by the Company! At such 
a price, a gift surely, to a homeless, bachelor farmer 
in a strange land ! Each one with her own recom- 
mendations and testimonials too ! so that purchasers 
can judge and choose." 

So the farmers examined the faces and the certifi- 
cates, and judged, and chose, and paid the price, 
and took unto themselves wives. Now they were 
" men," as the Episcopal service " pronounces " those, 

* The price was one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco, at three 
shillings, — equivalent to eighteen pounds sterling. The cost of trans- 
portation was about six pounds sterling, leaving a profit to the shippers 
of twelve pounds sterling to each woman. They were shipped, for the 
most part, by a society of trade distinct from the Company, but nomi- 
nally under their control, called " The Magazine," or the subscribers by 
"Boll." Stith, 171, 186, 197. Does Beverly sneer at wifehood, when 
he says (p. 248) that " the Planters at the price of a hundred Pound [of 
tobacco] made themselves believe they had a bargain " ? 



SERVANTS. 229 

who conceitedly think themselves men before mar- 
riage, to have become , in virtue of the marriage rite. 
Now they had homes. And then, in process of 
time, came certain native Anglo- Virginians, — little 
tent-pins, holding the farmers' tabernacles securely to 
the soil ; the very thing which Sir Edwin Sandys 
thought they would do. Thanks to his sagacity ! the 
Virginians became " settled in their minds." But a 
sense of home, and fixture upon the soil, were not the 
only salutary results. The rudeness, restiveness, and 
turbulence of a mere male population subsided ; and 
more industry, more frugality, more thrift ensued, — 
all natural consequences. 

Bonded or covenant service had been early intro- 
duced into the colony. Boys and girls were sent out, 
under indentures, to be " servants and apprentices " 
to tenants of the public lands, and to the old planters. 
Men and women also were sent out, under covenants, 
as " servants to be disposed of among the old planters " ; 
and all other persons who went out, not defraying the 
expenses of their own passages, " must, by a law of 
the country, serve, if men and women, four years, if 
younger, according to their years " ; but if under con- 
tract, before leaving England, for a longer term of 
service, then they would be bound for the term speci- 
fied in the contract. In 1619, King James peremp- 
torily ordered the Company to transport " one hun- 
dred dissolute persons to be servants." The sending 
over of rascals and paupers, which is continued to the 
present day, was an early policy of England. From 
all such, service of labor was due, for specified terms 
of time, in the colony. Their purchase-money in 
20 



230 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Virginia — often a large advance upon the cost of 
transportation* — entitled the purchaser, or master, 
to the entire time and powers of the immigrant until 
the debt was cancelled. The profit became a temp- 
tation to unprincipled men to act as shippers of ap- 
prentices or covenanted servants. Thus, in process 
of time, children were sold by poor parents ; many 
were stolen from their parents for the purpose of sale 
to shippers ; many were stolen by shippers them- 
selves ; magistrates thus disposed of young vagrants, 
and even convicted innocent men, for the good of 
their own pockets. The business became a regular 
trade in various parts of Great Britain, — in Aberdeen, 
in Bristol, in London, in Dublin, and other places. 
Under the name of " crimping," it had its " regular 
offices for entrapping young men who, pressed by 
temporary difficulties, and unacquainted with the 
world, were easily seduced by the keepers of these 
establishments to ship themselves for countries where 

* The cost of transportation was from six to ten pounds sterling. 
" Four years' service was required by laiv for the payment of transporta- 
tion" (Leah and Rachel, p. 11, in Force) ; and "a man ? s labor," says 
Stith (p. 163), "was computed at ten pounds sterling a year." Compare 
these facts with Captain Smith's language, addressed to the royal com- 
missioners in 1623 : " The general complaint saith that pride, covetous- 
nesse, extortion, and oppression in a few that ingrosses all, then sell all 
againe to the comminalty at what rate they please, yea, euen men, women, 
and children, for who will giue most, occasions no small mischiefe amongst 
the Planters." 

" As for the Company or those that doe transport them, prouided of 
necessaries, God forbid but they should receiue their charges againe 
with aduantage, or that masters there should not haue the same priui- 
lege ouer their seruants as here, but to sell him or her for forty, fifty, or 
threescore pounds whom the Company hath sent ouer for eight or ten 
pounds at most, without regard how they shall be maintained with ap- 
parell, meat, drinke, and lodging is odious."— Smith, p. 166. 



SERVANTS. 231 

they were to revel in numberless delights, but where 
in reality they were to be plunged into the miseries of 
compulsory servitude."* The system afforded a con- 
venient channel for disposing of persons convicted of 
political disturbances or political heresies, even down 
to the time of George the Second, if not later. It 
was also convenient for getting rid of young heirs, to 
the advantage of the next heirs-at-law.f 

" The condition of apprenticed servants in Virginia 
differed from that of slaves chiefly in the duration of 
their bondage," though it was not impracticable on 
slight pretensions to effect an extension of the bond- 
age in certain cases. 

But a history of this matter is a digression. It is 
sufficient to note the fact, that, under color of legal 
apprenticeship, a real and involuntary enslavement of 
free-born Britons existed in Virginia in 1620, an* 
previously. Hence, when, in August of that year, a 
Dutch ship brought a gang of Africans to the shores 
of James River for sale, the offer was only of black in 
lieu of white, with the single addition of wwlimited 
service. With compulsory servitude the Virginians 
were already familiar, and it seemed rather an act of 
good brotherhood than otherwise, to substitute the 
alien for the countryman, the Negro for the Caucas- 

* Mackintosh's English Revolution, 179. Chambers's Miscellany, 
Vol. II. No. 24. The whole discourse of the writer in Leah and Eachel 
shows the existence of this system of imposition, pp. 10- 14. The agents 
of these establishments are called " Spirits." Bullock's Virginia. 

t Old, authentic records show an atrocious instance of this sort, in 
which the plunder was an earldom, with its immense estate. It occurred 
in 1728. For the treatment of servants, and the allowance made them 
at the expiration of their terms, see Leah and Eachel, pp. 11, 12, 14. 
Beverly, 236 - 238. 



232 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ian. But whether any questions of casuistry were 
mooted or not, it was done ; and the twenty Africans 
were sold and bought. The end is not yet. 

During the administration of Yeardley, a donation 
was made to the treasury of the Company by an 
" unknown person in England, for the bringing up of 
the savage children in Christianity." Another gave 
" by will three hundred pounds to the College, to be 
paid when there shall be ten young saluages placed 
in it ; in the meane time, foure and twenty pound 
yeerly, to be distribvted vnto three discreete and 
godly young men in the colony, to bring vp three 
wilde young infidels in some good course of life."* 
In regard to this spiritual enterprise, upon which the 
Company in their appeals enlarged not a little, one 
" Master Jonas Stockam, a minister in Virginia," 
seems to have been rather faithless. In a letter to 
the Council and Company in England, dated May 
28th, 1621, having first gravely raised the question 
whether they sought the conversion of the savages 
for the glory of God, or through a desire of the gain 
which they hoped might flow to them as a reward 
for their proselyting, he added as follows : — 

" As for the gifts bestowed upon them [the sav- 
ages], they deuoure them, and so they would the 
giuers if they could ; and though many haue en- 



* "Touching the College for the Infidels' children, it hath beene 
thought more expedient to beginne first with the planting and peo- 
pling of the lands (which hath beene done this yeere) ; and afterwards 
to proceede to the erecting of the Fabricke, which is to be performed out 
of the reuenues of the Lands." — State of Virginia, 1620, in Force. Stith, 
162, 163, 166, 171, 172, 195. Beverly, 36. Smith, 127. 



PROSELYTING. 233 

deuoured by all the meanes they could by kindnesse 
to conuerte them, they finde nothing from them but 
derision and ridiculous answers. We haue sent boies 
amongst them to learne their language, but they re- 
turne worse than they went ; but I am no states- 
man, nor love I to meddle with anything but my 
bookes, but I can finde no probability by this course 
to draw them [the savages] to goodnesse ; and I am 
perswaded, if Mars and Minerua goe hand in hand, 
they will effect more good in an houre, than those 
verball Mercurians in their liues ; and till their priests 
and ancients haue their throats cut, there is no hope 
to bring them to conuersion." 

On this singularly Christian letter Captain Smith 
commented thus : " For the saluages vncertaine con- 
formitie [to the church] I do not wonder, but for 
their constancy and conuersion I am and euer haue 
beene of the opinion of Master Ionas Stockam." 

Whitaker, " the apostle," was of the same opinion 
with Stockam and Smith. 

A second General Assembly was convened in May 
of this year ; of whose doings, however, we have no 
record. 

For certain malicious by-ends of their own, the 
Earl of Warwick and Captain Argall — now the 
head of a troublesome faction in the London Com- 
pany — had caused it to be reported in Virginia, 
and even to be told to Opechancanough, that the 
government of the colony was about to devolve upon 
Warwick, who would call Yeardley to severe ac- 
count, and to signal punishment, for maladministra- 
tion. Yeardley was a man too sensitive and amiable 
to bear the brunts and emergencies of his very pecu- 
20* 



234 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

liar post ; and this rumor, which was variously con- 
firmed, wrought in him such extreme dejection, as to 
induce a long and severe sickness, and of course to 
retard and embarrass the machinery of his govern- 
ment. For this reason, probably, though perhaps in 
connection with others, he desired the Company to 
release him from his duties when the term for which 
he was appointed should have expired, which would 
be in November of 1621. Sir Francis Wyatt was 
therefore elected Governor, — "a young gentleman 
thought every way sufficient and equal to the place, 
and highly esteemed on account of his birth, educa- 
tion, integrity of life, and fair fortune." He left Eng- 
land with his commission about the 1st of August, 
1621. 



CHAPTER XV. 

OVER THE WATER. 

We now go back a little in the order of 
time, and pass over to the old and bustling 
metropolis of England. 

Late in June, or perhaps in the early part of July, 
1616, there was a lady sitting in a richly furnished 
apartment in London, who had some connection with 
the events of our narrative. She appeared to be about 
forty years of age, which was less than two years 
short of the truth. Her face was but indifferently 
handsome, — an aquiline nose a little drooping to- 
wards the mouth, a clear complexion, and rich brown 
eyes, just then rather heavy in their expression, though 
usually lively. Her hair was elaborately curled and 
frizzled, dressed high, and decked sparingly with jew- 
els. Her dress was a rich, heavy silk brocade, the 
bodice tight, and forming a waist five inches longer 
than natural. The corsage of her gown was cut very 
low, but the bosom was covered with a transparent 
chemisette and a Brussels lace collar, and cuffs of the 
same material in three tiers ornamented her wrists. 
She wore the preposterous appendage of the day, — 
a farthingale, — so enormous that her very beautiful 
hands rested upon its verge, when her arms were 
extended. She had no companion but a pet grey- 
hound, of a diminutive breed, which lay at her feet, 



236 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

having around its neck an ornamented collar, on 
which were embossed in gold the letters A. R. 

The lady had the appearance of one worn by cares. 
Indeed, she had a troubled look, as though some 
jagged thoughts were even then working their way 
through her mind. She seemed abstracted, and gave 
no sign of life other than a sigh, or a flitting contrac- 
tion of her brow and lip, as if she were in pain. At 
last she rose, — with what awkwardness and diffi- 
culty may be imagined, — and walked nervously to 
one of the large windows. She looked upon the 
bright green lawn, glanced at some sombre build- 
ings and turrets beyond, and instantly turned back 
again. There was nothing cheering out of doors, 
for there was no sunshine. It was shut out by 
smoke and clouds. Observing by a timepiece in the 
apartment that it was almost noon, she sadly reseated 
herself, and took up a letter which had lain open by 
her side. She had read it before, but she commenced 
reading it again with evident interest. 

While she was thus engaged, a folding door of the 
apartment was thrown open from without by two 
men in rich apparel. A man entered without word 
or ceremony, the two attendants disappeared, and the 
door was closed. He was fifty years of age, of mid- 
dling stature, misshapen by the rickets just enough to 
give him an uncouth form, and had a countenance, 
even in its best state, disagreeably homely. Just 
now it was not in its best state ; for, besides first a 
rolling, and then an idiotic stare, of his large eyes, — 
actions which were habitual with him, — he had a 
decidedly drunken look. Not that he was tipsy then ; 
but he looked as though he had been, thoroughly, 



OVER THE WATER. 237 

when he went to bed, and had just risen to shame, re- 
pentance, and the headache. His dress was green from 
head to foot, of the same shade as the vigorous grass 
out of the window. He looked as though he was a 
fat man, but he was not. His face, — it was bloated ; 
and his clothes, — they were stuffed with quilted pad- 
ding, I don't know how thick ; but so thick that the 
ordinary daggers of the time, if they should prick 
through to the skin, could not penetrate much farther. 
He was very much afraid of being stabbed ; no one 
knew why, although some wiseacres said it was be- 
cause, just before he was born, a man was stabbed to 
death in his mother's presence, and he had never got 
over the fright. In those days every man wore a 
sword who pretended to be a gentleman, which he, 
through a very great error of judgment, thought him- 
self to be. But he had as natural a dislike to swords 
as he had to shorter weapons for stabbing, and wore 
instead, and in the place of one, a richly ornamented 
hunting-horn. He loved dogs and hunting dearly ; it 
was said, better than he loved anybody in the world, 
or anything but eating and drinking and lying in 
bed.* 

He made a peevish sign to the lady, who was 
beginning the operation of rising, that she should 
remain seated, and advanced with an awkward and 
uncertain step, as though his legs were too weak for 
his body, — and they were. The slightest possible 
look of sorrow passed upon the lady's face, but it im- 
mediately gave way to a good-natured expression, her 

=* Hume's History of England ; Neal's History of the Puritans ; Strick- 
land's Queens of England, Vol. VII. pp. 344. 345, 349 - 351 ; Dickens's 
Child's History of England ; Aikman's Buchanan's Scotland, III. 384. 



238 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

eyes beaming with their natural vivacity, and betray- 
ing a spirit anything but tame or diffident. Her hus- 
band adjusted himself upon a seat, after an ungainly 
process, sheepishly looked down upon the floor, and 
fumbled uneasily at his dress. 

" I am sorry for you, Jemmy," said the lady, refold- 
ing her letter; "but you should be more on your 
guard, man. You had such bitter shame and sorrow 
after that terrible debauch with brother Christiern at 
Theobalds, that I thought you would have profited by 
the lesson. Ten years to be sure ; but not long 
enough for such a thing to be forgotten. And yet 
how many times since have you done just so ? " 

Jemmy was in the habit of swearing like a trooper, 
and of largely spicing his conversation with Latin. 
We omit the Latin and the oaths. 

" I dinna ken, I dinna ken," he replied, with a 
clumsy articulation. His tongue was too big for his 
mouth. He always spake so. " I canna hald frae 
swearing ! An uncannie chiel ! an uncannie chiel ! " 
And he began to cry. 

M You are not uncannie, Jemmy ; you are not un- 
cannie," said the lady in a soothing tone. " There is 
not your equal in all England or Scotland." 

" Ay, ay ! I could gie the teachings o' wisdom to 
a' in the twa kingdoms. But Solomon himsel had 
his weakness. Ye cannie know, Nannie ! the muckle 
power o' temptation whin Auld Cluity himsel fills 
the tassie, and putteth on the bonnie smile o' an angel 
o' light. Wae 's me ! wae 's me ! Gude forgie me ! 
Gude forgie me ! " And he wept and blubbered like 
a child. 

And thus, while the fit was on him, he snivelled 






OVER THE WATER. 239 

forth his morning penitence, wringing his hands, and 
ejaculating sneaking prayers "that God would not 
impute his infirmities to him." His wife, who really- 
loved him, had hardly succeeded in bringing him to 
tolerable composure, when two more persons were 
ushered into their presence. 

One of them was a very handsome young man, 
twenty-two years of age, with a genteel air and fash- 
ionable apparel, and radiant with diamonds, — dia- 
monds in his cap, diamonds in his ear-rings, and dia- 
monds on his shoes. The other was a youth of six- 
teen years, of a very modest and winning appearance ; 
his countenance wearing an almost imperceptible 
shade of melancholy when in repose,* but lively, fresh, 
and ingenuous when animated by conversation. Was 
a hazy presentiment of a stormy life and a tragic 
death already creeping over his young spirit, and 
spreading its pall over his features ? 

" Steenie ! Charlie ! " exclaimed Jemmy, as the two 
entered, " ye 're the light o' my een ; bonnie and braw 
as twa fresh-blawn roses ! " 

" Welcome, my little servant ! " said the lady to the 
younger, using a term which she whimsically chose to 
express her affection to her son.f 

" My dear mother," replied the lad impetuously, " I 
have come to ask whether you will receive the prin- 
cess. Have you read the letter ? " 

" Yes, child, I have read the letter. But you must 
ask his Sowship about the reception." 

* This expression was so distinct in the portraits of Charles I. by 
Vandyke, that a Roman sculptor, once studying one of them, turned 
sadly away, exclaiming, " That man will not die a natural death ! " 

t Strickland, VII. 360. 



240 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

u Reception ! letter ! princess ! " exclaimed Jemmy. 
" What 's blawing i' the wind noo, Baby Charles ? 
Are ye ganging to fash me wi' mair o' your lassie 
frolics ? Ye maun ha' the Infanta, or the lass o' 
France. Sae nae mair o' your skeely pratticks." 

" No, no," replied Charles affectionately. " Your 
Majesty shall be obeyed in my marriage when the 
time for marriage comes. But this princess is already 
married to one of your Majesty's subjects." 

" Ah, I ken, I ken ! We '11 bring him to a sair 
repentance, — the scurley limmer ! To buckle wi' the 
bairn o' a king ! Sic a deed is onkent ! By my saul ! 
he ha' miskent himsel ! He shall skirl for it ; he shall 
greet and gowl for his honeymoon, gif the king o' 
England an' Scotland can mak him ! " 

" But, Jemmy ! the young man acted with advice. 
The Governor himself approved of the marriage." 

" An' dinna ye ken, Nannie, that I maun see to the 
keepin' o' royal bluid frae the profane touch o' the 
plebeian-born ? Steenie ! what say you ? " 

" I think there is much difference between the royal 
blood of an Indian, and the royal blood of your Sow- 
ship," said Buckingham. 

" Weel, weel ! but royal bluid is royal bluid af- 
ter a'." 

" But you would not punish the innocent with the 
guilty, surely! Your most serene Sowship cannot 
hurt the princess's husband without hurting the prin- 
cess." 

M Hoot-toot, man ! Ye tak no tent o' the fact that 
the princess ha' nae mair right to fa' frae the place o' 
Gude's anointed, than the man ha' to foist himsel 
up! But we hae nothing to do wi' her; wi' him, 



OVER THE WATER. 241 

muckle. Dinna ye perceive, Steenie, that wha is gude- 
man to the princess o' Virginia maun be takin' tent 
o' the crown o' Virginia to be his ain by and by ? 
My saul ! he maun thole the dool. Gin he will tak 
the bit, he maun tak the buffet wi' it." 

« But, dear father — " 

" Noo, noo, Baby Charles ! I canna be fashed mair ! 
I canna be fashed ! Let us drap this clishmaclaver." 

" But the letter, sire." 

"The letter? aweel ! " 

" It is about this beautiful princess, and is a petition 
that she may be presented to her Majesty. Surely a 
queen should welcome a royal princess to the realm ! " 

" Hie-how, Baby Charlie ! Ye 're a braw callant 
for princesses! Weel, what o' the letter, Nannie! 
Frae wha is it ? " 

" It is from your Sowship's most brave and loyal 
subject, Captain Smith. Shall I not read it to you ? " 

" Is it to Baby Charles ? " 

"No: it is to myself." And, unfolding it, she 
began to read : "'To the Most High and Virtuous 
Princess, Queen Anne of Great Britain — ' " 

" That 's ower true, ower true ! " interrupted Jemmy. 

" ' Most admired Queen : The love I bear my God, 
my king, and countrie — ' " * 

" "Weel, Nannie ! gin he is your admirer, ye maun 
humor the man. An' I sud like to see the princess 
mysel. Sae do as ye w T ill ; an' nae mair on 't noo, 
— wad ye, Steenie ? " and Jemmy slung his arm 
over the shoulder of the handsome youth, lolled upon 

* This letter of Captain Smith to Queen Anne may be found entire 
in Smith ; in Beverly ; in the Life of Smith in Sparks's American 
Biography ; and in " Indian Biography," by B. B. Thacher. 
21 



242 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

his neck, rubbed his gross lips over and over his fair 
face, and kissed, and kissed, and kissed.* 

The favorite bore the treatment meekly, and rather 
sportively, disgusting as it was, until the most high 
and virtuous Anne interrupted the royal pastime by 
saying : " Steenie, my dog ! " 

" At your service, my gracious Queen," — disen- 
gaging himself from the royal embrace. 

" You have not done your duty." 

" Wherein have I failed of my duty to your Ma- 
jesty?" 

" In failing to watch over his Sowship." 

" Steenie fail to watch ower me ! " exclaimed Jem- 
my. " By my saul, he 's ever a watchin' : he does 
naethin' else. Gin ye can fin' nae mair fault, he may 
e'en gae scot-free." 

il I did command my dog Steenie that he should 
make your ear hang like a sow's lug," f rejoined Anne 
of Denmark. " Did he do his duty last night, when 
he let you get drunk ? " 

" Poor Steenie ! dinna blame him. How could he 
get at my lug, when the Deil stood a whispering in it 
hissel ? Steenie canna wark miracles ! " 

" His Sowship is right, my gracious Queen : I can- 
not outwit Satan. It was not my fault, nor his Sow- 
ship's, that he got drunk : the Devil did it, by his wiles 
and enchantments. Your Majesty must settle the 
score with him." 

" Well, my kind dog, keep to your vocation, and 
get beforehand with the Devil. You have done very 
well in lugging the sow's ear. I shall thank you for 

* Dickens. t Strickland, VII. 350. 



OVER THE WATER. 243 

it, and would have you do so still. Upon condition 
that you continue a watchful dog unto him, and be 
always true to him, so I shall wish you all happi- 



We gladly drop the curtain. Even so brief an 
approach to the domestic life and character of James 
the First of England, makes one feel denied and 
heart-sick. Such royalty looks better out of ear-shot. 

It is sufficient to remark, that the wrath of James 
against young Mr. Rolfe, for his presumption in yok- 
ing himself with royalty, " passed off without any 
further bad consequence than a little displeasure and 
murmuring " ; as did also his apprehensions that the 
husband of Pocahontas might lay claim to the crown 
of Virginia. 

Pocahontas, or, as she was called in England, the 
Lady Rebecca, had arrived at Plymouth on the 12th 
of June, having in her train several young Indians of 
both sexes, and devoted with all the fresh and tremu- 
lous love of a new mother to the comfort and the 
marvellous developments of an infant Thomas. She 
had acquired a fair command of the English language, 
had easily adopted the habits and manners of civilized 
life, and was well instructed in Christianity. Her 
journey of two hundred and sixteen miles to London 
was necessarily slow, partly because of the ill-con- 
structed roads and the lumbering vehicles of the day, 
and partly because of the hospitalities which she en- 

* Strickland, VII. 349. The disgusting appellative applied through- 
out this dialogue to King James is that with which he was addressed 
by his queen and by the Duke of Buckingham, in their familiar conver- 
sations, and in their letters. 



244 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

countered. Great was the curiosity of all classes to 
behold the natives of the New World, and particularly 
the beautiful scion of barbaric royalty, the first Chris- 
tian of her nation, the first who had wedded an Eng- 
lishman and borne him a child. In the eyes of the 
crowd, all were national trophies ; a kind of first-fruit 
offering at the shrine of English greatness, types and 
pledges of a growing empire, which not only grati- 
fied English curiosity, but tickled English pride. Yet 
there were others who, while they shared in these pop- 
ular sentiments, greeted the stranger princess with 
English heartiness for her own sake, as the heroic 
savior of their countrymen, as the beautiful child of 
Nature, and a rare embodiment of female virtues. 
All strove to do her honor. The London Company 
made appropriations for the generous maintenance of 
herself and her child ; and her society was eagerly 
sought by families of the highest rank and of un- 
bending pride. 

The noise and the smoky atmosphere of London 
so illy agreed with one always accustomed to the 
stillness and the pure air of the forest, that Pocahon- 
tas was immediately removed to Brantford, a short 
distance from the city. As soon as Captain Smith 
heard of her being established, he hastened to wel- 
come her, taking with him a party of his friends. It 
is undoubtedly true, though not stated in Smith's 
account of the interview, that he met her with the 
ceremonious deference and reserve appropriate to the 
character in which she appeared, and to the sphere in 
which she was then moving, but in strong contrast to 
the frank and easy cordiality which had marked their 
interviews in the wilderness. This she instantly per- 



OVER THE WATER. 245 

ceived. It keenly wounded her sensitive nature. 
Her heart had bounded toward the man whom she 
had known in her father's lodge, whom she had re- 
peatedly saved from death, from whom she had al- 
ways received the most cordial and parental saluta- 
tions, and whom she had ever regarded with childlike 
reverence and trust. But formality in him! she had 
not dreamed of it. It was chilling, cutting, stunning ; 
for she had lost none of the simplicity, none of the 
aftectionateness, none of the sensitiveness, which had 
marked her elastic childhood. The open warmth of 
the rough soldier had always gladdened her ; the 
English iciness of the precise visitor smote upon 
her heart. She could not comprehend it. She re- 
turned it by a passionless and silent salutation, 
turned directly about, and covered her face with 
her hands. From this grieved and wordless humor 
she would not be dissuaded, so that Kolfe and the 
visitors left her, much to the mortification of Smith. 
After two or three hours they returned, when she 
began to talk. 

" I see you are other than you used to be. I was 
but a little girl, yet I did save your life and the lives 
of your people whenever I could. Though I did not 
know God then, he moved my heart to love you and 
your people, and to take care of you.* Then you 
used to smile, and put your hand on my head, and 
look in my eyes, and say, l God bless you, my child I ' 
But noiv, where there are no Powhattans to hurt you, 
you look no smile, you say no word to God, you 

* " She remembered me well what courtesies she had done." — 
Smith. 

21* 



246 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

make one stiff stoop over, and say, l La-dy Re-bec- 
ca ! ' " and a sneer of contempt could be seen upon her 
quivering lip as she protracted her new name. " I 
see you have forgotten Pocahontas.* You came to 
see the Lady Rebecca. She was here then," — al- 
luding to her own coolness and silence, — " but she is 
gone now. This is Pocahontas, Captain Smith, — 
your child" 

" I did come to see Pocahontas," Smith replied, 
kindly. " I have not forgotten her. I have not for- 
gotten what she did when my head lay upon the 
stone in her father's lodge. I have not forgotten 
what she did for my people when they had no 
food. I have not forgotten what she did in the 
lonesome woods and in the dark night. She was 
as an angel of mercy whom God sent. But here 
it is not proper that a poor soldier should conduct 
himself towards a king's daughter as though he 
were her equal." 

" King's daughter here ; king's daughter there. 
Poor soldier here ; poor soldier there. It is the same, 
and you should be the same. Captain Smith did look 
kind, and say, ' God bless,' and l my child.' You did 
promise Powhattan what was yours should be his ; 
and he, the like to you. You called him 4 Father,' 
being in his land a stranger ; and by the same reason, 
so must I do you." 

" We are both the same, and we regard each 
other the same as we used to. But England and 
Powhattan's country are not the same. My king 



* " She addressed a feeling and pathetic remonstrance on the distant 
coldness of his manner." — Burk, I. 187. 



OVER THE WATER. 247 

would be angry if I should behave as if I was a 
father to the daughter of a king. Therefore I am 
afraid that you should call me ' Father,' or to call you 
< Child.' " 

The idea was so absurdly ludicrous, that the seri- 
ousness and grief of Pocahontas gave way, and she 
broke into a ringing laugh. 

" Afraid ! " said she. " Who ever dared to say that 
Captain Smith was afraid ! It is silly. Were you 
afraid in my country, among many strangers and 
terrible warriors ? No. You made all afraid but 
me. How, then, can you be afraid among your own 
countrymen, and afraid of such a harmless thing as 
that I should call you ' Father ' ? Should any one but 
you say it, I should think him a fool.* I tell you, 
then, I will call you * Father ' ; and you shall call me 
' Child ' ; and so I will be for ever and ever of your 
country and of your people. They did tell us al- 
ways you were dead, and I knew no other till I came 
to Plymouth. Yet Powhattan did command Tomo- 
comof to seek you and know the truth ; because your 
countrymen will lie much." 

Captain Smith then made known to her, that he 
had already, under favor and countenance of Prince 



* This is the true meaning of Pocahontas's words, as recorded by 
Smith ; but he expresses it in a very obscure way. 

t Tomocomo was one of the train of Pocahontas. He had married 
her sister Matachanna; was one of the chief of Powhattan's council, and 
of their priests ; and was esteemed highly by the Indians for his wisdom. 
He was sent to England to number its inhabitants, or — it is not certain 
which — to take account of their trees and corn, for which they seemed 
so eager. He therefore provided himself, upon landing, with a long 
stick, —his account-book, — which he began to notch, but soon threw 
it away in despair. Stith, 143, 144. 



248 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Charles, related to Queen Anne by letter the history 
of her relations and services to the colonists. After 
other conversation, he took his leave for the present ; 
the sensitive princess relieved of the grief which the 
formality of their meeting had induced. They had 
frequent interviews afterwards, for Smith was daily 
importuned for an introduction to her, by persons 
connected with the royal court, and by others. 

It was a gay, frivolous, heartless world to which 
Pocahontas was now introduced ; but its shifting 
scenes, its glitter, its novelty, served effectually to 
blind her to its hollowness and misery, so that " she 
was wonderfully pleased and delighted." For the 
brief term of her visit, her native and now matured 
purity was a sufficient shield against its contamina- 
tion, and of course its sting. So transparent was her 
goodness, and so natural and simple her dignity of 
manner, that the proudest and wickedest approached 
her with profound respect, and the boldest felt that 
there ivas a line beyond which they might not ad- 
vance. At masks, at balls, at theatres, she was a 
chief object of attraction ; but neither viscount, earl, 
or duke presumed upon her simplicity. Though a 
wife and a mother, she had yet the loveliness and the 
sanctity of a child. In artificial society, she seemed 
like a modest and graceful lily, a pure and peerless 
product of Nature, fresh and fragrant, to whom the 
rank and gorgeous nurslings of the hot-house paid 
instinctive homage. Through means of Smith's let- 
ter to Queen Anne, she was introduced to their 
Majesties by Lord and Lady Delaware. The whole 
court were surprised and charmed by the propriety 
and grace of her deportment ; and even the sottish 



OVER THE WATER. 249 

James was roused to sentiments of esteem, and con- 
ceded to her the position of a royal princess. She 
was frequently admitted to private interviews with 
the queen, and was publicly treated as the daughter 
of a sovereign prince. 

Thus she passed away the winter of 1616 - 17, the 
pride of a husband who loved her with passionate 
devotion, and admired by all for the beauty of her 
person and the loveliness of her character. 

Early in the spring, — it appears to have been about 
the 1st of March, — Captain Argall sailed from Graves- 
end, near the mouth of the Thames, for Virginia. 
While waiting in that port to go in his ship to her 
native land, Pocahontas was suddenly arrested by a 
power from which there was no deliverance. She 
fell sick, and soon perceived that Death stood at the 
door. As husband and friends moved about in con- 
sternation and in tears, her childlike spirit was trans- 
figured before them, and was clad in raiment of light. 
Behold, it was " the spirit of adoption " ! 

When she yearned to see once more the rivers and 
forests where she used to play, and the aged chief 
who used to delight in her infant glee, and to lay her 
body by the graves of her woodland fathers, it whis- 
pered, " Thy will, O God ! not mine," and the long- 
ing was stilled. 

When she took leave of husband and child, it mur- 
mured, " Even so, Father ! " and she was peaceful. 

And then she looked trustfully, steadfastly, upon 
the Offering for sin, — a " Thanks ! thanks ! for the 
unspeakable Gift ! " in her heart, — until, unsullied 
by a fashionable and wicked world, she sweetly fell 
asleep. 



250 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Her name, like a drop of dew, or a perpetual 
flower, on a hoary ruin, is yet fresh and refreshing 
on the page of history ; and the memory of her un- 
pretending life is like the memory of a heavenly 
vision* 



* Pocahontas died at twenty-two years of age. Her son, Thomas 
Rolfe, " afterwards came to America, where he became a gentleman 
of great distinction, and possessed an ample fortune. He left an only 
daughter, who married Colonel Robert Boiling, and died leaving an 
only son, Major John Boiling, who was the father of Colonel John 
Boiling and several daughters; one of whom married Colonel Richard 
Randolph, from whom was descended the late John Randolph of Vir- 
ginia," so distinguished both for his character and his talents. Drake's 
Book of the Indians. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE CONSTITUTION. — OPECHANCANOUGH. — JACK-OF- 
THE-FEATHER. 

The new Governor arrived in Viriginia in 
October. The policy which he was instructed 
to pursue denotes much vigor and political sagacity 
on the part of the Company ; yet betrays the same 
peculiarities for which the New England colonies have 
been stigmatized. Religious worship and rites ac- 
cording to the canons of Episcopacy ; the honor and 
rights and respect of the clergy ; " the avoiding " — a 
soft but ambiguous word — " of all factious and need- 
less novelties " ; * loyalty ; the prompt and equal ad- 
ministration of justice according to the forms and 
constitution of England ; peace and friendship with 
the natives, and their protection from wrong ; popu- 
lar industry ; the suppression of gaming, drunken- 
ness, and "excess of apparel" ;f — all these, among 
other matters, were expressly enjoined. 

This last item excited some sensation in the col- 

* Meaning Puritanism particularly. 

t It may be a question whether the language of the Company on this 
point savors most of Puritanical preciseness and overmuch righteous- 
ness, or of Episcopalian jealousy for the privileges of rank. " No per- 
son, except the Council, or the Heads of Hundreds and Plantations, 
with their Wives and Children, shall wear Gold on their Cloaths, or 
any Apparel of Silk, except such as has been raised by their own In- 
dustry." — Stith, 194. 



252 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ony ; not as an improper, but as a ludicrously inap- 
propriate, injunction. " "We know," said the Gov- 
ernor and Council, li of no excess in apparel, except in 
the price of it ; and had not the direction come from 
the Company, we should have thought it a flout for 
our poverty and nakedness." 

In one thing, at least, the Company discovered their 
Christian common sense, in a little homily borrowed 
from a sermon which was preached sixteen hundred 
and twenty years before, but is to this day disre- 
garded. In urging upon the colonists the conversion 
of the natives to Christianity, they observed that " the 
example given by the English in their own persons 
and families would be of singular and chief moment." 

Elementary, and even classical education, were also 
recommended; and — quite as urgently — the culture 
of corn, the making of walnut-oil, wine, and silk, for 
the two latter of which the Company had made spe- 
cial and generous provision. Tobacco they discour- 
aged ; commanding to restrict its cultivation to one 
hundred pounds per head, and declaring that, for dues 
to them, they would receive " not one Whit in Smoke 
and Tobacco, but only in useful Commodities." 

But the most important document brought by Sir 
Francis Wyatt was A Charter of Government. Un- 
der this instrument, the powers of legislation were 
committed to the colonists through their represent- 
atives, in connection with the Governor and Council ; 
hereby establishing, on a legal basis, the same form 
of free government of which Sir George Yeardley, 
without legal sanction, had given a pattern the 
year before. The Governor, Council, and Represent- 
atives constituted The General Assembly. The 



THE CONSTITUTION. 253 

Governor had a negative vote. No law passed by 
them was valid, however, until ratified by the Com- 
pany in England ; and no commandment of the 
Company in England could have the force of law, 
until approved and adopted by the General Assembly 
in Virginia.* The Assembly were simply required 
" to follow the Laws, Customs, and Manner of Trial, 
and other Administration of Justice used in the Realm 
of England, as near as may be," 

Virginia had a Written Constitution ! She re- 
ceived it under the reign of a despot! No man 
ever more hated constitutional rights, no man ever 
frowned more savagely upon popular liberty, than 
James. " Kingcraft," as he called it, was his voca- 
tion, if he had any. In his own conceit, he was born 
for it, inspired with it, a master of it. Such was his 
daily boast. Yet he so handled his tools, that he was 
unwittingly shaping a Commonwealth. " The en- 
croachments of the prerogative, the avowed princi- 
ples of arbitrary power, began to raise the spirit of 



* " We, the Treasurer, Council, and Company, by authority directed 

to us by his Majesty under the Great Seal, do hereby order 

that henceforth there shall be Two Supreme Councils 

The one The Council op State ( assisting to the 

Governor) shall be chosen and displaced by Us The other, 

to be called by the Governor yearly, and no oftener, but for very 

extraordinary and important occasions, shall consist of the said 

Council of State, and of two Burgesses out of every Town, Hundred, or 
other particular Plantation, to be respectively chosen by the inhabitants ; 
which Council shall be called The General Assembly, wherein (as 
also in the said Council of State) all matters shall be decided," &c, re- 
serving to the Governor always a negative voice. Then follow the 
other qualifications and limitations stated briefly in our text. The ordi- 
nance may be found entire in Stith, Appendix No. IV. See also Jeffer- 
son's Notes on Virginia, Query XIII. 
22 



254 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Liberty in the nation," — a spirit nowhere more active, 
perhaps, than in the Quarter Sessions of the London 
Company. The Solomon of England withstood and 
goaded it in the Parliament ; so it wrought the more 
efficiently in the Corporation, where it breathed the 
breath of life, whence it received its first form, its first 
habitation, and its first written gospel of great joy. 
The sacred fire which the king stifled, they nour- 
ished ; and while as yet they could build for it no 
altar at home, they generously transmitted it, by 
their charter, to the colony which they had fostered 
abroad. 

Like the symbolic woman in the Apocalypse, the 
Genius of Liberty — clothed with the sun, having 
the moon under her feet, and a crown of stars on her 
head — travailed in birth, and pained to be delivered. 
James, like the dragon of the vision, stood before her, 
to devour her child as soon as it should be born. But 
it was caught up, as a holy thing, under Divine pro- 
tection. And the woman fled, where she had a place 
prepared for her of God, into the wilderness, — which 
helped her and the remnant of her seed. There was 
no Star- Chamber in Virginia. 

They were happy auspices under which Sir Francis 
Wyatt commenced his administration on the 18th of 
November, when he immediately convened the Gen- 
eral Assembly under the new Constitution. At this 
session, a system was established for the administra- 
tion of justice, — the Governor and Council consti- 
tuting a Supreme Court, and inferior courts being 
appointed in the different settlements for the trial of 
lesser cases, called County Courts, although the conn- 
try was not yet laid off into counties. 



OPECHANCANOUGH. 255 

At the time of his daughter's departure for Eng- 
land, Powhattan had removed his residence to the 
banks of the Potomac. Wearying of care as age 
advanced, and grieving for the death of his beloved 
Pocahontas, he gave himself up to the pastime of 
visiting the different chiefs and tribes under his sway, 
and left the charge of his government chiefly in the 
hands of Opechancanough. This fact, added to his 
personal popularity and his known pre-eminence in 
point of talent over Itopatin, the next heir to the 
government, caused the king of Pamunkey to be re- 
garded as the rising sun ; and, as such, he received 
the deference both of Indians and English. In addi- 
tion to this, by a cunning artifice he had induced the 
powerful and independent tribe of the Chickahominies 
to elect him their king in the same year, 1616, — 
an event which largely increased his consideration 
and influence. Powhattan, having maintained con- 
tinual peace with the English from the time of Poca- 
hontas's marriage, had died in April, 1618. Itopatin 
had succeeded to his title and office ; but Opechan- 
canough, to his influence and real government. Both 
immediately made a formal league of friendship with 
the English, which they had maintained, in appear- 
ance at least, until the arrival of Sir Francis Wyatt. 

This gentleman, soon after his installation in office, 
sent Mr. George Thorpe to the royal brothers on a 
friendly embassy, and to renew and confirm former 
leagues. They both gave fair and courteous re- 
sponses ; but Opechancanough's deportment was 
particularly gratifying. He began to talk about the 
English God, and seemed to Mr. Thorpe to have 
" more motions of religion " than could be expected 



256 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

of one so benighted. " Paganism," he said, " did not 
satisfy him. He wanted to find the God of Captain 
Smith. O that he might receive instruction ! How 
gladly would he listen ! Could not some way be 
devised to break the darkness of his poor heathen 
soul ? Suppose that Mr. Thorpe should arrange that 
some English families should come to reside among 
his people, and that some of his people should go to 
reside with the English. Thus he and others who 
now knew no other god than Okee — and he did not 
seem to be much of a god — might come to under- 
stand about the English God, and thus they should 
be all one people. Would not Mr. Thorpe try to do 
so much for the poor Indians ? " " Certainly Mr. 
Thorpe would " ; and the good man, much affected, 
returned from his mission elated by these indications 
of an opening door for the Gospel. 

Mr. Thorpe had been one of King James's Gentle- 
men of the Bed-chamber, was now one of the Gov- 
ernor's Council, and the Superintendent of the Col- 
lege lands. He was truly apostolic in his desire and 
self-denial for the conversion of the Indians. For 
their good, he had consented to leave his native land 
to manage the affairs of the College, — their College 
he considered it, — and was now laboring and pray- 
ing for the conversion of the chief and his subjects. 
Toward all these he was so tender in his feelings, and 
so disinterestedly anxious to conciliate them, that he 
could not bear to deny them any wish, or that they 
should be subject to any annoyance. Amiable and 
gentle as he was, he could exercise severity ; but only 
upon those who wronged or insulted an Indian. 

The land assigned to the College consisted of ten 



OPECHANCANOUGH. 257 

thousand acres, laid off at Henrico, on which were 
located about a hundred planters, who were tenants. 
Half the profits of their labor was to be their own. 
From the other half, " the fabricke " was to be built 
in which " wilde young infidels " were to be trained 
for wholesome life and heaven. For the personal 
support of the Superintendent, three hundred acres 
were assigned, on which were placed ten tenants. Mr. 
Thorpe was hard at work in arranging and managing 
the affairs of this important enterprise. There was 
more of the secular than of the spiritual, however, in 
his vocation at present. Houses were to be built, 
and lands to be allotted, broken up, and planted. 
Upon this preliminary drudgery he entered body and 
soul, as the necessary means to a good and glorious 
end. He could never divest himself of the impres- 
sions made upon his mind, and the hopes enkindled, 
by " the motions of religion " in Opechancanough ; 
and, as the chief's residence was at no great distance 
from the College manor, he determined to visit him. 
He did so. He was cordially welcomed, treated with 
the highest consideration, and listened to, when upon 
religious topics, with earnest attention. All this was 
hopeful in Mr. Thorpe's view, and he thanked God as 
he was returning to his home. 

" What a sorry hut ! " he soliloquized ; " what a 
sorry hut for a king to live in! Suppose, now, I build 
him a nice, comfortable English house. Would it 
not win his confidence to a religion which leads its 
followers to do kindness even to unbelieving Indians ? 
Then he will listen to my instructions even more 
teachably. Then, when he learns something more of 
the Bible, the Lord may unseal his eyes and open his 

22* 



258 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

heart. Then the other chiefs, and all the tribes, when 
they see the great king believing in the true God and 
Christ, will begin to learn. And then — and then — " 
Thus he went on until he saw the desert blossoming 
as the rose, and the weaned child with his hand on 
the cockatrice's den. As the result of Mr. Thorpe's 
meditations, a house was built for Opechancanough ; 
and the two soon met there. The chief always had 
a smile and a welcome for his good English friend ; 
but at this meeting he was particularly elated, and 
evinced both his gratitude and respect in every possi- 
ble way. His delight was unbounded, as he rambled 
with his visitor through the different apartments, and 
asked the purpose of this and of that, and wondered 
how each could have been constructed ; but by the 
lock upon the door he was fascinated. He seemed 
perfectly contented, the wonderful lock with its key 
on the one side, and Mr. Thorpe with his Gospel on 
the other. Now he would turn the key, and now 
hear the words of grace. The lay missionary was 
somewhat puzzled by the vacillation of the savage 
mind between objects so dissimilar; but though the 
royal pupil would sit and play lock and key a hundred 
times a day, yet he was so pleased with the company 
and discourse of his teacher, he asked so many ques- 
tions about Christianity, and looked so earnestly when 
he spoke or listened about it, that Mr. Thorpe could 
not but strike the balance of probabilities against the 
mystery of the lock, and in favor of the mystery of the 
Gospel. It was so evident that he had won the chief's 
ear and heart ! and how cheaply too ! only by a little 
painstaking, a little kindness, and a little English cot- 
tage with a lock and key ! O how grateful he was 



JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 259 

for such free and easy access to the mind of this pagan 
king ! He wished for only one thing more, — to lead 
him within the spiritual fold. How tearfully he prayed 
for him in secret places ! and how often, in the pres- 
ence of his pupil, did he mentally exclaim, " How 
can I give thee up ! " 

Their interviews were repeated ; and their conver- 
sations upon religious matters were long and frequent. 
Opechancanough could not be far from the kingdom 
of Heaven; and as for the peaceful behavior of the 
catechumen and his subjects towards the English, 
there was now in Mr. Thorpe's mind no shadow of 
apprehension. His confidence in their good-will never 
wavered to the moment of his death. The remark- 
able fruits of Opechancanough's " motions of religion " 
soon appeared. 

On the fertile bank of a small creek between 
James and York rivers lay a fair farm belong- 
ing to a thrifty farmer by the name of Morgan. But 
Morgan's thrift was not all the result of his labor on 
the soil. He had a gift at traffic also, and had been 
known to drive many a good bargain, when his pres- 
ence was not needed upon his plantation, by exchang- 
ing English trinkets for Indian corn and peltry. He 
always had on hand more or less of those articles 
which pleased the natives ; but in March of 1622 he 
had still a large supply, although he had been driv- 
ing a brisk trade during the winter. 

Quite early in the month, and betimes in the morn- 
ing, too, Morgan sat regaling himself with a pipe of 
tobacco of his own raising. There was a stout Indian 
with him doing likewise, whom Morgan had furnished 



260 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

with a lodging through the night, and with whom he 
had just finished a hearty morning meal. Smoking 
with a companion is a mystery which none but the 
initiated comprehend. It includes good-fellowship, 
and even a semi-mesmeric sympathy or interchange 
of thoughts ; in other words, conversation without the 
trouble of speaking or hearing. As such, our planter 
and Indian enjoyed it, without a passing thought of 
their difference in color, blood, or education. While 
the pipes lasted, they were brother-spirits, — nothing 
else. 

This was no common Indian, and, as the sequel 
will show, he had no little to do with the development 
of Opechancanough's " motions of religion." He 
was a noted warrior, known among his people by the 
name of Nemattanow, a man of great bravery, and 
considered by the Indians one of their chief war-cap- 
tains. He had been engaged in many bloody con- 
flicts with the English before the marriage of Poca- 
hontas, and, though he had always freely exposed his 
person, had never received the slightest injury. He 
was exceedingly ambitious, and had adroitly taken 
advantage of his many escapes to work upon the su- 
perstitions of his countrymen, until they believed, 
what he vauntingly maintained, that he was both in- 
vulnerable and immortal, — in other words, something 
more than human. Consequently he was regarded 
with extreme veneration by all the associated tribes. 
His great popularity was very annoying to Opechan- 
canough, who looked upon him as a rival. He was a 
shrewd fellow, and knew well that any eccentricity of 
his would essentially increase the awe with which he 
was regarded. For this purpose, as well as to gratify 



JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 261 

his own vanity, he made himself as noted for his cos- 
tume as for his invulnerability. He was never seen 
bat in an extravagant dress, and one which to the eye 
of an Indian was very grand. His hair was worn in 
the usual Indian style, so trimmed as to stand perpen- 
dicularly, about two inches in height, from the centre 
of the forehead over the crown to the nape of the 
neck, — a stiff ridge, "like a cock's comb," say the 
old writers ; the hair on either side being drawn down 
flat upon the scalp, and knotted behind the ears. But 
Nemattanow was peculiar for his display of finery. 
At each ear hung a beautiful spiral sea-shell, to which 
were strung three or four pearls. Upon his broad 
breast was suspended, by a string of Wampum Peak,* 
a round tablet of about four inches in diameter, and 
of the highest polish, having the figure of a new moon 
and a few mystic characters skilfully etched upon the 
surface. His neck, wrists, and ankles were also orna- 
mented with chains of Peak ; while a few dull rings 
of English manufacture were sported on his fingers. 
A sort of half-petticoat hung from his waist down- 
ward to the middle of his thigh. It was made of 
nicely dressed deer-skin, slashed to a fringe around 
the lower edge, as around the upper, which fell over 
and concealed the girdle, while fanciful devices 
wrought with Peak adorned the surface. His feet 

* Peak was of two kinds, both made of the conch-shell. The one, of 
a dark-purple color, and the most valued, was the Wampum Peak ; the 
other, made of the white part of the shell, was called White Peak. " Eo- 
anoke " was of far less value, and was made from the cockle-shell. All 
these were fragments each one third of an inch long and one fourth of 
an inch in diameter, wrought in cylindrical form, smooth and polished, 
and strung by a hole drilled through the centre lengthwise. Peak and 
Roanoke were Indian currency as well as ornaments. Beverly. 



262 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

were protected by moccasons ornamented with bead- 
work, and made of dressed buckskin, drawn close to 
the ankle by running strings. He wore also leggins 
of the same material, gartered below the knee, and 
tasselled. In winter he added a wrapper or mantle, 
called a match-coat, made of a skin or skins with the 
fur on and inwards ; and when in full dress, his head 
was surmounted with a sort of coronet made of Peak 
and beads nicely woven, and of delicate colors. He 
carried his bow in his hand, and from his quiver, which 
was slung behind, hung the tail of a panther, sweeping 
the ground at his heels. But the warrior was most 
remarkable for the manner in which he tricked out his 
person with feathers. Wherever he could fasten them 
to please his taste, he did so, — a long feather of the 
eagle, or the hawk, or the wild turkey, or the gay, 
glittering feather of the sea-drake, upon his head, his 
apron, his bracelets, his garters, his anklets. An origi- 
nal fantastic was Jack-of-the-Feather, as the English 
called him. 

As there is an end to all things, there was an end 
to the silent conversation of Morgan and Jack. The 
pipes were exhausted, the ashes knocked out; the 
placid illusion was over ; and once more the planter 
was a white man, the guest an Indian. Jack, with a 
grunt of ineffable satisfaction, quietly laid his pipe 
upon a rude bracket at hand, adjusted to his better 
pleasing some of his ornaments, and broke silence : 
" Has my white brother made great trade since the 
corn-moon ? " 

" No, no, Jack! " said the planter, in a desponding^ 
tone : " your people are too cunning at trade for such 
a simple man as I. They buy little ; they pay little 



jacktOf-the-feather. 263 

when they do buy. Poor trade, Jack; very poor 
trade! I think I must give it up." And Morgan 
sighed heavily. 

" Then you have not gone to the right place. The 
white man should carry to those who want what he 
has to sell, and who have plenty of what he wants." 

" Nobody wants, and nobody has plenty," replied 
Morgan, as though he had never found a customer. 

u My white brother does not speak truly : many 
want ; many have plenty." 

" Who ? where ? " asked his host sharply. " I 
can't find them." 

" Jack-of-the-Feather knows." 

Nemattanow fancied his English name, when in a 
familiar mood. 

" Well, then, who ? where ? Master Jack-of-the- 
Feather ? " 

" I can tell, if Master Morgan has things to sell." 

" If I have them ! I tell you, Jack, I can't sell 
them, your people are so poor, and so hard upon me. 
You don't suppose I throw them away, do you ? " 

" Perhaps so." 

" 'S blood, man ! do you think I 'm a fool ? Look 
here ! " And Morgan threw open a chest containing 
a variety of glittering bawbles, which made the In- 
dian's heart dance. 

" A wise man," he said, in reply to Morgan's ques- 
tion, — "a wise man will hunt by the trail. The 
panther snuffs the scent on the wind." 

" Well, Jack, I 'm neither a wise man nor a fool, 
nor a hunter, nor a panther ; but I should like to sell 
my goods." 

" Then let my white brother go with me." 



264 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

« Where ? " 

" To Pamunkey. They have much sldns ; no jew- 
els, no English beads, no bells, — no anything but 
corn and skins." 

" Do they want to buy ? " 

« Much." 

« Will they ? " 

" They will." 

" What makes you think so ? " 

« They say it." 

" When ? " 

" Yesterday. They did say, < Tell Master Morgan 
come to us, for we have no presents for our women. 
Our wives are getting cross, and our young women 
do not look pleasant at our young men.' " 

" Will you guide me through the woods ? " 

" It will make the Pamunkeys happy. It will make 
my white brother happy. Why should I not show 
him the way, then ? " 

" Then I will go." 

The planter quickly gathered up his " truck," gave 
a few orders to two stout young men, his servants, 
slung his compact budget upon his arm, and left, 
attended by Jack. Before night, the Indian had pos- 
sessed himself of the planter's treasures ; the carrion- 
bird was scenting on the wing the odor of death, and 
down below her there in the forest lay the corpse of 
poor Morgan stark and stiff. 

Not more than two or three days after, Jack made 
his appearance again upon the plantation, and alone. 

" Where is master ? " inquired one of the servants. 

" At Pamunkey," answered Jack, promptly. " He 
get much skins." 



JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 265 

« Why did he not come with you ? " 

" He stay get much skins more. Jack could not 
stay." 

" What do you wear that cap for ? " 

It was Morgan's cap, stuck full of feathers. 

" The white man love Jack much, and give." 

" Well, master's friend must come in, and get bread 
and smoke pipe." 

" And fire-water too ? " 

" Yes, fire-water too." 

Jack was soon seated in the house, and James left 
him, saying that he would get fire-water. He soon 
returned with Thomas, — they were the only per- 
sons upon the plantation, — and, marching straight 
up to the Indian, he laid his hand upon his shoulder. 
Looking him full in the eye, he said sternly : K Jack, 
you lie ! Where is master ? " 

« He die." 

The servants looked significantly at each other, and 
Thomas now stationed himself also at Jack's side, and 
grasped his arm. Their suspicions of foul play had 
been very strong, but were greatly confirmed by the 
Indian's avowal of Morgan's death. Jack, without 
seeming in the least disconcerted, coolly told them to 
let him alone. But the young men were sturdy, reso- 
lute fellows, and were now not a little excited. 

James replied boldly : " No, you red rascal ! we 
shall not let you alone. Perhaps you 've murdered 
master, — who knows ? You must go to Mr. 
Thorpe." 

" Jack-of-the-Feather will go on his own path. You 
take off hands." And the warrior looked sternly in 
their faces, 

?3 



266 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" No," said Thomas, " you must go and tell Mr. 
Thorpe where Master Morgan is." 

The Indian rose slowly to his feet. 

" You bring Mr. Thorpe to me " ; and with one 
swing of his powerful arm he hurled the servant 
across the room. James, however, threw himself 
resolutely upon Jack ; and Thomas regaining his 
feet, there was a desperate struggle. No blows 
passed ; the young men only trying to pinion the 
Indian, and he only to free himself. After a little 
rolling about, and some tumbles, the muscular sav- 
age succeeded in releasing himself, and stood proudly 
at bay. 

" Little children should not try to wrestle with the 
warrior-chief," he said coolly but scornfully. " They 
might get hurt. It would make their mothers much 
cry." 

The young men were somewhat confused at their 
discomfiture, but undaunted and determined. Jack's 
sneer did not soothe them. 

" You shall go to Mr. Thorpe," said Thomas. 

" Ugh ! English pismire speak big words " ; and 
the chief began to arrange his finery, which had 
been put sadly out of place by the scuffle. 

" Tom ! " said James, " this will never do. He 
must not get away." 

" Cripple him," replied Thomas, pointing with his 
thumb over his shoulder ; and James disappeared. 

" One gone," said the savage. " He is wise." 

But a moment more, and James reappeared with a 
musket. 

" Now, Jack ! " said- he resolutely, " will you go to 
Mr. Thorpe as you are, or will you be shot and go ? " 



JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 267 

The Indian's bold look was a little changed at the 
sight of the weapon ; but he haughtily replied : " Lis- 
ten, little boy ! This is Nemattanow, the great war- 
rior. Many English guns make shoot at him, but 
where are their marks upon his skin? Not one. 
Boy! save your powder." 

Jack had lied so long and so many times about his 
charmed life, that he half believed in it himself, and 
stood his ground. 

" Shoot him, Jim ! " exclaimed Thomas, in a pas- 
sion. 

" Once more," said James, presenting the piece ; 
" will you go to Mr. Thorpe ? " 

" Nemattanow is a good friend in his lodge ; in 
battle, a warrior. Children ! tell Mr. Thorpe he can 
find Nemattanow in either place " ; and the chief 
turned deliberately to the door. 

" Give me the gun, Jim ! " and his comrade caught 
it from his hands. 

Nemattanow had strode but a few paces upon the 
greensward. The musket was discharged. The 
chief, with a jerk, threw himself a little more erect, 
placed his hand upon his side, stopped, turned his 
face to his pursuers, tottered a moment, and fell. 

The young men found him alive. Without a 
word, they raised him to a sitting posture, and soon 
succeeded in stopping the flow of blood, the Indian 
yielding himself passively and sullenly to their man- 
agement. He now revived sufficiently to support 
himself; upon which the young men began to con- 
sider what they should do. 

" Going to Mr. Thorpe can't be done now, Jim. 
The fellow cannot walk a mile." 



268 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

James studied for a moment the pallid face and 
short breathing of the wounded man, and shook his 
head. 

" No, Tom, it can't be done. Slip him into the 
boat, and take him down to Sir Francis. I 'm glad 
he 's so near, for the sooner he knows the truth about 
this business the better. There may be a fuss made 
about it." 

" You 're right, Jim, if we can get him to the 
boat. Jack ! can you walk, poor fellow, if we help 
you ? " 

The Indian slowly raised his head, which had 
drooped upon his breast, and looked toward the lads. 
The natural fire of his eye was evidently flagging, 
but it was yet there. The lid was heavy, and the 
eye itself wavered, as if feeling after some object upon 
which to fix itself; but he made no answer. 

" Jack ! " said Thomas, dropping upon his knees, 
and drawing the sufferer's shoulder gently upon his 
own for support ; " Jack ! do you hear ? Can you 
get to the creek if we help you ? We must take you 
to the Governor. It will be all the way in the boat, 
you know." 

The poor man only groaned. 

" Can't you speak ? " continued Thomas, taking 
the Indian's hand kindly in his own. Jack slightly 
pressed that of the man who had shot him ; but there 
was a gentleness, a woman-like meaning in the pres- 
sure, feeble as it was, which said more impressively 
than words, " There is no enmity between me and 
thee." Thomas felt its meaning, and was amazed. 

" What 's come over the man ? " said he, looking at 
his companion. " He feels my hand just as if I was 



JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 269 

his brother ! Queer for a proud savage heathen, 
an't it?" 

" We can't stop to talk about his feel, Tom. Can 
we get him to the boat ? " 

The speaker's voice now arrested the roving mo- 
tion of the Indian's eye, which became fixed upon 
James's face with a wistful expression not to be 
mistaken. 

" He wants something," said James. " What is it, 
Jack ? Would you like to go ? " 

With a strong effort, the Indian managed to say, 
"Water!" 

" Get him some water, quick, Jim, while I hold 
him." 

The poor man drank eagerly and largely, and soon 
revived enough to signify his assent to the plan of his 
captors. They therefore supported him to the boat, 
which was near, made an extempore mattress in it, on 
which they laid him with all possible gentleness, and 
in less than an hour had glided to the mouth of the 
creek, and were floating on the broad current of the 
James. Nemattanow had lain all this while with 
his eyes closed, and giving no sign of suffering but 
an occasional groan, or a faint call for water. Nei- 
ther had the two servants broken silence, except now 
and then by monosyllables. Once in the channel of 
the river, they hoped soon to be where Sir Francis 
Wyatt then was, the whole distance being only about 
seven or eight miles from their plantation. But the 
Indian now began to be very restless, and was evi- 
dently in great distress. 

" What can I do for you, Jack ? " said Thomas, 
whose compassion was much excited, even to tears. 

23* 



270 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" Thank ! " said Nemattanow, in a husky voice, 
" One thing. Two thing. Then I die." 

" O no, werowance ! " said James ; " we shall soon 
be there. We shall get you a medicine-man then, 
and you will be better." 

" No, no ! " said Nemattanow, with some energy ; 
for although his distress was evidently increasing, 
either his strength or his resolution seemed to be in- 
creasing also. " No, no ! " he repeated, raising him- 
self upon his elbow, " I die. You do for Jack one 
thing ? You do two ? " 

" Yes, Jack ; one thing, or two things, or any- 
thing we can," said Thomas, most earnestly. 

" Hold, Tom ! " interposed James. " Let us know 
first what you want, Jack ? " 

" When I die, do not send me to my people. Put 
me in the ground with the English. You do this ? " 

" Yes, yes ! " exclaimed Thomas, impulsively. 

" No, Jack ; we cannot promise yet," said James. 
" We will not do any such thing for you, unless you 
will do for us." 

" Do ! What can Jack-of-the-Feather do now ? " 

" You must tell us about master." 

"What?" 

" How he died, and where he is." 

" And then you do for me ? " 

" Yes." 

" Two thing ? " 

" What is the other ? " 

" Do not let my people know that the English gun 
shoot me. Do not let them know I die." 

" Why not ? " 

The dying chief sat up erect. Death was stamped 



JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 271 

upon his features, but he was struggling with it hard. 
The spirit of the warrior was within him proud and 
strong. His eye glowed, he stretched out his brawny 
arm with a most impressive and even majestic air, 
and answered : " Nemattanow great warrior. His 
people say he is a god ; that nothing hurt him ; that 
he cannot die. Let them say it. Let them think 
it when the great warrior is dead. Tell them I go to 
the hunting-grounds of the brave, but not tell I die. 
Say I go up on the mountain-top ; the Great Spirit 
send cloud very bright, and take Nemattanow up. 
So they will be proud of their great chief ; and Ne- 
mattanow will be happy. You do two thing ? " 

w If you tell the truth about Master Morgan." 

" Then you do for me ? " 

« yes ! " « Yes ! " responded both. 

« I kul." 

" You killed him ? " 

" Yes, I kill." 

In answer to their inquiries where the corpse of 
their master might be found, the chief told as well as 
it could be done ; but the information led to no dis- 
covery. Of his motives for the murder, and of its 
particulars, he would say nothing. Solemnly re- 
minding the young men that by his confession they 
were pledged to fulfil his wishes, he signified that 
conversation was at an end. 

" Now," said he, " let the warrior die. Nematta- 
now will go to his fathers." 

He held out his hands, one to each of his captors ; 
grasped theirs in a mute but cordial farewell, and fell 
back upon his couch. After two or three minutes he 
rose again, and began a wild chant in his native 



272 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

tongue. There were signs of bodily anguish which 
he could not suppress ; but his face was radiant with 
pride and exultation, and every note of his song was 
clear, nervous, triumphant. The young men knew 
a little of the Indian tongue ; enough to perceive that 
he was recounting his exploits on the war-path, and 
bidding the spirits of the dead to receive a mighty 
warrior with honor. 

Thus died Nemattanow ; ingloriously, but full of 
pride ; a heathen, but firm and exultant in the hope 
of immortality ; ignorant of the true God, but stead- 
fast and consistent to the last in the only faith and 
the only virtues which he knew. The historian 
sneers at his passion for posthumous admiration, 
yet cherishes the same folly, and calls himself a — 
Christian ! The Pharisee scorns the pagan's fidelity 
to a creed so meagre, yet does no honor to his own by 
obedience. The puling spiritualist shudders at the 
bold and boastful transit of an Indian warrior, yet is 
there a great gulf between his own life and the sim- 
plest precepts of Christ. Each is a mystery to all but 
God ; and a living caricature of the Gospel, however 
demure, may not exalt himself over the dying devotee 
of a sensuous faith. Each is a mystery to all but 
God ; and so is the dying hour of each, with its oper- 
ations and its issues* 

* Smith, 144. Stitb, 208, 209. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 

The report of this double tragedy had hardly 
been made to Sir Francis Wyatt, when it was 
represented to him that Opechancanough was loud in 
his threats to revenge the death of Nemattanow. 
Prudence dictated that the rumor should be promptly 
noticed. Accordingly the Governor despatched a mes- 
senger charged to impress upon the chief the injustice 
and the very bad policy of any hostile demonstra- 
tions. The message was delivered about the middle 
of March. Opechancanough was plainly told what 
rumors had reached the Governor's ears ; that Ne- 
mattanow, although killed in a scuffle, had suffered 
justly as the murderer of an English subject; and 
that any attempt at retaliation on the part of the 
Indians would be terribly punished. 

The chief received the messenger with the utmost 
respect and friendliness. " He was very much sur- 
prised, he was grieved, that his peaceful disposition 
should be called in question ! What was the death 
of Nemattanow to him but a matter of consratula- 

o 

tion ? The fellow had always been a thorn in his 
side. Had not Opechancanough told Sir George 
Yeardley that he would thank him if he would have 
Nemattanow's throat cut? Let Sir Francis ask Sir 
George. What did Opechancanough desire more 



274 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

than to see his people and the English living together 
like neighbors, like brothers ? He had been arranging 
with Mr. Thorpe for this very sort of intercourse, and 
now should he break it up ? Let the Governor ask 
Mr. Thorpe about his heart toward the English. Mr. 
Thorpe knew all about it, for he was teaching him 
the good religion. Had he not already made a treaty 
of peace, in which he had even consented that the 
English should freely occupy any lands under his con- 
trol not already tilled or built upon by the Indians ? 
Was not that friendship ? To show his sincerity and 
the perpetuity of that treaty, had it not been already 
engraved upon brass, and fixed upon the most vener- 
able oak in his forests, that it might be had in ever- 
lasting remembrance ? and had not this been done 
at the request of Opechancanough himself? What 
more could Sir Francis expect ? No ! the sky would 
fall before he should break peace ! " 

Such energetic asseverations on the chief's part, 
although not alone satisfactory, were so in their con- 
nections. Mr. Thorpe, who knew him intimately, had 
the utmost confidence in his pacific disposition, and 
in his " motions of religion." Besides, the chief had 
sent such a message to Sir George, and of his sinceri- 
ty in doing so there could be no doubt. Under these 
circumstances, all apprehension subsided ; and the 
little flurry to which the death of the Indian favorite 
had given rise, passed away like a morning vapor. 
All was again tranquil and sunny. All wore the 
aspect of peace. All rejoiced in a sense of security. 

The tide of prosperity had now fairly set in upon 
the colony, which had so long struggled against every 
conceivable hinderance and misfortune. During the 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 275 

three preceding years, the number of immigrants had 
been large. Forty-two ships and twelve hundred 
mariners had been employed in the transportation of 
three thousand five hundred and seventy men and 
women, besides abundance of provisions and cattle ; 
and the entire population amounted to about four 
thousand.* They were enjoying, under their new 
form of government, greater privileges and thrift than 
the most sanguine among them had ever ventured to 
expect. The people were scattered wherever they 
could find spots favorable to their several avocations, 
" and the further from neighbors held the better." Iron- 
works, under the charge of Mr. John Berkeley, were 
in a state of forwardness at Falling Creek, and they 
were expected soon to be in successful operation. 
They had planted cotton for the first time the year 
before, and with such results that they were preparing 
for a new crop, and with sanguine hopes. Mulberry- 

* Jefferson, in his Notes on Virginia, states the population for this 
year to have been three thousand eight hundred. Other writers indicate 
it as low as three thousand five hundred. The authority which I have 
before me is a volume entitled, " A Declaration of the State of the Colo- 
ny and Affaires in Virginia, with a Relation of the Barbarous Massacre, 
in the Time of Peace and League, treacherously executed by the Native 
Infidels vpon the English, the 22d of March last." It was " imprinted " 
at London in 1622, and "Published by Authoritie." On page 14 it 
states, in agreement with other writers, that the number of those who 
perished was three hundred and forty-seven; and on page 18, that 
" about eleven parts of twelve of the English were still remayning." 
This would make the population previously to have been four thou- 
sand one hundred and sixty-four, supposing the proportion of twelve 
to eleven to have been exact. 

The number of immigrants which I have given in the text, for the 
preceding three years, is as given in the same little volume, on page 6. 

On this " Declaration " I chiefly rely in sketching the following narra- 
tive. 



276 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

trees were cultivated in abundance, silk-worms were 
prospering well, and the people were expecting soon 
to produce silk, under the superintendence of expe- 
rienced Frenchmen, who had been brought over for 
the purpose. French vine-dressers also had been sent 
out by the Company, and promised soon to manufac- 
ture wine in large quantities, a sample of which they 
had already sent to England. Fig-trees, pomegran- 
ates, potatoes, sugar-cane, hemp, flax, &c., &c. were 
also under cultivation. 

So much were the Company elated by this state of 
things, that "they voted that a sermon should be 
preached to testify and express their thankfulness to 
God for his blessing on their labors and undertaking" ; 
and this was done at the Bow Street Church in Lon- 
don, on the 17th day of April. 

In addition to what we have stated, the most 
friendly and confiding intercourse was maintained be- 
tween the colonists and the natives. The Indians dis- 
played no jealousy or ill-will toward the English ; the 
English had none toward the Indians. The latter, 
always of a roving disposition, were to be seen daily 
moving about the plantations ; and to such a degree 
was this intimacy carried, that there was not a family 
whose numbers, whose persons, whose crops, whose 
times and places of labor, whose domestic habits, and 
whose private apartments even, they did not know. 
The houses of the planters were always open to the 
natives. The Indian came when he pleased, and 
when he pleased returned to his hut in the woods. 
He brought his burden of venison or wild-fowl, of fish 
or fruits, to sell ; was welcomed to the white man's 
table, and lodged under his roof, and in the morning 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 277 

received a return for his commodities, and went away 
cheerily for home. In short, the Indians and the Eng- 
lish " seemed entirely to have coalesced, and to live 
together as one people," except that there were no in- 
termarriages between them, for the English " excepted 
against the Indian women on account of their being 
Pagans, as well as their complexions." Besides all 
these happy circumstances, there were to be taken 
into account the strong yearnings of Opechancanough 
after the Truth. They might soon result in his con- 
version ! The influence of this upon his countrymen 
who could estimate ? 

In such a state of •things, the planter could go to his 
field, or the trafficker upon his business, or the mem- 
ber of the Council to his duty at Jamestown, without 
the encumbrance of sword or firelock. Arms were 
altogether slighted. Guns were out of use, except 
when a planter was in the humor to bring down a 
deer or a turkey. Indeed, scarcely any weapon was 
to be found in the dwellings of the English more for- 
midable than the axe, the spade, or the hoe. 

On the 21st of March there was a peculiar move- 
ment of the various tribes under the sway of Ope- 
chancanough, whose talents and warlike qualities had 
acquired for him, not only the election of the powerful 
Chickahominies as their king, but the popular and 
practical ascendency over the dominions of Powhat- 
tan, to whom Itopatin had nominally succeeded. 
This movement was universal. It was conducted in 
silence, and almost wholly under cover of the for- 
ests. The natives were not only astir, but they were 
all converging, in detached parties, and with the 

24 



278 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

greatest regularity and concert, towards the various 
settlements of the whites. The first parties in motion 
were from their remote villages ; but as these and the 
day advanced, others and still others from other and 
nearer villages took up their march. Only those who 
were within a few hours of the plantations remained 
quiet during the day. But as the sun went down, 
new parties were on foot, and still new ones as the 
night advanced, until, when the day of the 22d 
dawned, there was not a wigwam in all the extensive 
tract which had not sent forth its warrior. Yet still 
the movement progressed, each party with more and 
yet more caution as they approached yet nearer to the 
several plantations, treading one behind another, each 
man in the footprint of his predecessor, and the last 
carefully effacing every vestige of their march. Rare- 
ly did any two parties come in hearing or sight of one 
another ; but when they did, they exchanged no word, 
but, with a silent recognition, pursued their several 
courses. By sunrise there was not a settlement of the 
English which they had not closely surrounded. Then 
they quietly laid themselves down to rest in the woods, 
that they might be refreshed for the festivity which 
they had planned. 

Never did the most accomplished general plan and 
carry out with more celerity and precision so compli- 
cated a movement of so many bodies of men, and from 
so many and so distant points. No mistake, no dis- 
order, occurred. 

That the English upon this occasion might not lack 
for good cheer, Opechancanough had deputed a suffi- 
cient number to go in advance of their companions, 
with presents to the principal men of the colonists. 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 279 

The evening before, it would seem, he had sent veni- 
son and fish and wild-fowl to Sir Francis Wyatt at 
Jamestown, and to some of the members of the Coun- 
cil, "with expressions of regard and assurances of 
friendship." * This morning, some of the Indians, 
leaving their fellows in the woods, went to others of 
the Council,! with like presents and in great abun- 
dance, saying that then: chief had had good luck 
in his hunting, and would share it with the white 
chiefs, his brethren, that they might be merry while he 
was merry. At the same time others entered the plan- 
tations, bearing game for sale ; while a few, in the 
course of the morning, emerged from the woods in 
company with white men, whom they had guided 
carefully to their several homes by direction of Ope- 
chancanough. They were all frankly welcomed by 
the English, who gladly bought or accepted what 
they brought, and cheerfully loaned to them their 
boats as they would cross to or fro upon the river. 
Opechancanough must have had a great hunt, and a 
very brotherly heart toward the English, for there was 
not a single plantation where were not Indians bear- 
ing burdens of wild-fowl and deer. It seldom, if 
ever, had happened that so many visited the settle- 
ments at once ; and never had they been more cour- 
teous and friendly in their deportment. 

u Welcome, Tettatnow ! " exclaimed Mr. Thorpe, 
as an Indian appeared at his door. 

" The white chief has a good heart," replied Tettat- 
now ; " he always welcome for Indian." 

* Burk, I. 240 ; Beverley, 39 ; Smith, 144. 
t Burk, I. 239; Keith, 138. 



280 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" And why not ? We have the same Father above. 
Are we not brothers, then, Tettatnow ? " 

" We are brothers," the Indian responded, as he 
seated himself in a chair which his host presented. 
" Tettatnow bring his brother much present from Ope- 
chancanough." And he pointed through the open 
door to two Indians who had followed him, laden 
with the spoils of the forest. 

" Opechancanough is very kind to his white broth- 
er," replied Mr. Thorpe, and the good man's face 
beamed with pleasure. The present was valuable, 
but not half so much so for its own sake as for its 
evidence of Opechancanough's esteem and affection. 

" He think much what Mr. Thorpe say about God 
of the English ; and when the God of the English 
send him good hunt, he say, ' Because Mr. Thorpe 
pray him.' So he send some for thank." 

Mr. Thorpe smiled at the Indian's simplicity ; at 
the same time inwardly praying, with thanksgiving, 
that light might be vouchsafed to his royal pupil. 

Tettatnow was a warrior of some repute among his 
people, and a confidential assistant of Opechanca- 
nough. Mi*. Thorpe had met him at the dwelling of 
the chief; and had often entertained him, both by day 
and by night, at his own. Tettatnow had heard many 
words of Christian instruction from his lips ; and the 
two were on a footing of as much ease and familiarity 
as could ever exist in those days between a white 
man of station, and a dignified, courtier-like Indian. 
The sun had but just risen when the latter made his 
appearance ; and Mr. Thorpe had been sitting alone 
at his table in a little room which served him as a 
study and a place of business, enjoying at the same 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 281 

time the goodness of God in the fresh air of the morn- 
ing and in the promises of the Word. He now closed 
his Bible, and went with Tettatnow to receive the 
present of the chief. 

After delivering it to the care of one of his servants, 
and after a little desultory conversation, Mr. Thorpe 
said : " Tettatnow, you know that we always pray 
to our God in the morning. It is now our time. Will 
you and your men come with us while we pray ? " 

" We will come. But why do you pray to your 
God ? Is he not good ? " 

" To be sure ! He is all goodness. We pray be- 
cause he is good." 

" Not like Indian, then. Indian's God good too. 
Because he is good, we not pray." 

" Not pray because he is good ! I do not under- 
stand, Tettatnow. Besides, I have been told you do 
pray. Opechancanough prays to the Indian's God." 

u No, no, Mr. Thorpe. Our God is up above the 
sky. He so great, no man understand him. He so 
happy, he cannot be happier. He so kind, he not be 
kinder for pray, for nothing else. Look, Mr. Thorpe ! 
is not the ground covered with dew ? Look more, 
Mr. Thorpe ! will not the grass grow and the flower 
open because they are washed with the dew and 
warmed ? From where come the warm ? From the 
sun. From where come the dews ? From the morn- 
ing's womb. Do you pray the morning to send the 
dews ? Do you pray the sun to send warm ? No, 
no, Mr. Thorpe ! Why no ? Because the sun so full 
he run over, and send warm without pray, of himself; 
and the morning so full she spill out the dews with- 
out pray, of herself. So Indian's God. He so full 

24* 



282 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

of good, he run over. It drop down everywhere with- 
out pray. He so full, he cannot help it, — just like 
the sky, just like the sun. So we no pray, him." 
" But you do pray, Tettatnow." 

" Not to Great Spirit. He so full of good, it come 
down without pray. He so great, he not stop to hear 
so little words of little small Indian. He just open 
his big stream of good all the time. It flow along, 
and flow along everywhere ; for Mr. Thorpe, for Ope- 
chancanough, for Tettatnow, for all. Let each one 
drink. What for I pray the stream flow, when it 
flow all the time, and all around ? No, Mr. Thorpe, 
we not pray the Great Spirit : we pray the bad spirit, 
Okee." 

" The bad spirit ! the Devil ! Good God ! for 
what?" exclaimed Mr. Thorpe, in amazement. 

" If we not pray him, he angry, and spoil the good 
things the Great Spirit sends. He give thunder and 
storm, and war and sick, and no food. We pray 
him, then he keep back thunder and storm and other 
bads, and let us have the food and health and peace 
which come along on the great river of God. That 
the way Indian pray. But Tettatnow will pray Eng- 
lish God with Mr. Thorpe. He much good Spirit too. 
But he like pray ; so Tettatnow will pray him." * 

Mr. Thorpe, somewhat perplexed, mused a few mo- 
ments in silence, and then said : " Well, Tettatnow, 
we will pray to the English God now. It is our 
time. Afterwards we will eat, and then we will talk 
more." 

" It is good," said Tettatnow. 

* Beverly, 170. 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 283 

• The Indians were uniformly very unwilling to com- 
municate their notions of religion. Hence the words 
of Tettatnow were strange to Mr. Thorpe, notwith- 
standing his previous intimacy with the natives, and 
the many discourses which he had had with them 
upon religious matters. But his visitor was in a pe- 
culiarly communicative mood, and, as the sequel will 
show, cared not what knowledge his white friend 
might acquire, his only object being to gain the con- 
fidence and friendly interest of Mr. Thorpe by throw- 
ing off all reserve. 

At a word from Mr. Thorpe, a long blast from a 
conch-shell was given, the signal for morning prayer ; 
and in a few minutes all the servants of the farm and 
all the inmates of the house were ranged in the com- 
mon hall. The three Indians likewise, half clad in 
their wild costume of skins and trinkets, sat gravely 
in the places assigned to them. After reading from 
the Sacred Scriptures and singing a hymn of praise, 
the family rose to kneel in prayer. This simultaneous 
movement startled the two stranger Indians. A look 
of mingled alarm and defiance crossed their features, 
and they half sprang to their feet ; but the composed 
attitude of Tettatnow, to whom the service was not 
new, and an almost imperceptible sign of rebuke from 
his eye, reassured them, and the incident passed al- 
most unnoticed. The Indians sat perfectly quiet and 
respectful while Mr. Thorpe read the prayer for the 
day. But the good man's heart could not be con- 
fined to the form of words. The wild sons of the 
forest were in his presence, the heathen were there by 
the very steps of the altar, — how could he refrain 
from special petitions in their behalf? Earnestly did 



284 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

he plead for them and for their brethren, that they 
might be brought to the knowledge of the Truth, that 
English and Indian might have one fold and one 
Shepherd. This was a usual burden of his prayers ; 
but this morning he seemed earnest and importunate 
as the Patriarch when he interceded for the cities of 
the plain. 

The family now dispersed to make preparations 
for their morning meal, and Mr. Thorpe, with his 
three guests, stepped out to loiter upon the green- 
sward. An English mastiff welcomed his master 
with signs of affection ; but, setting his eyes savagely 
upon the Indians, gave a low, sullen growl, indicative 
of dislike and jealousy. They shrank back terrified, 
for the natives dreaded these strange and powerful 
animals even more than the English fire-arms. Mr. 
Thorpe, bidding his guests by no means to retreat, 
lest they should provoke an attack from the dog, im- 
mediately laid hands upon him, and called angrily 
for one of his servants. 

" How many times, Thomas, must I repeat my 
orders that this dog shall not be permitted to frighten 
the Indians ? Take him and chain him ; and if you 
are not more careful, I certainly shall have him killed 
too." 

Mr. Thorpe had already caused several mastiffs to 
be killed, and to the great grief of their owners, for 
no other reason than that they were objects of terror 
to the Indians. 

" I will chain him, sir," replied the man, sulkily, 
" because I must ; but if I could — " 

" If you could what, sirrah ? " 

" If I could have my say, I would say that some 
dogs know more nor some men." 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 285 

" Thomas ! " said Mr. Thorpe, with some stern- 
ness, "if I did not know you as well as I do, I 
should think you were insolent. What do you 
mean ? " 

" God forbid, Measter Thorpe ! " replied the man, 
humbty. » I only mean that dumb brutes some- 
times see danger where men do not. They seem 
to have some kind o' senses that we ha' n't to make 
up for their dumbness, like ; an' somehow it seems 
to me that we ought n't to slight 'em when they 
bristle up an' growl so. They always means some- 
thin', sir." 

" You are a silly fellow, Thomas, if you think 
there is anything to be afraid of now. So go and 
chain up the brute." 

The man did so ; but he growled as much as the 
dog, declaring, aside, that his master must be half 
a fool himself, to think there was nothing to be afraid 
of when there were so many Indian devils about. 

" Buck ! yer are a dog o' sense," said he, patting 
him with a patronizing air. " Maybe I mought say 
yer a Christian dog. Yer can't bear the sight nor 
smell o' a heathen, anyhow. Now, Buck, yer did n't 
see how the devils looked when master was a prayin', 
did yer? No, yer did n't, Buck, 'cause yer warn't 
there. But I did though, 'cause why? 'Cause I 
was there. An' did n't I peek under my arm ? and 
did n't I see their infernal faces a lookin' as though 
they 'd like to eat us all, the devils ; just like the old 
un what goes round like a lion a roarin' ? An' yet, 
Buck, though yer did n't see that, an' though yer 
can't read Scripter nor more 'n I, yer knowed as quick 
as yer seed 'em they was devils. Yes, good feller! 



286 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Yer knowed jest as well ! Atween this an' that, Buck, 
I think yer 've more sense on this pint nor Measter 
Thorpe hisself. Them 's my opinions, Buck ! " Buck 
growled assent. " Tom is right, an't he ? " and the 
man seated himself, throwing his arm lovingly over 
the dog's neck, patting him, and looking into his 
clear, intelligent eye. Buck licked Tom's nose. 

" Now, Buck, tell me, what 's so many on 'em 
round for this mornin' ? an' what makes 'em so 
cussed perlite, a smilin' an' a smilin' ? Yer remem- 
ber, old feller, what one of them Drury Lane popin- 
jays said one night, ' Can smile an' smile, an' be a 
villain ' ? Ay, yer do, do ye ? An' that makes yer 
suspicious on 'em, does n't it ? Right, Buck ! Yer 
an' I 's o' the same mind exactly. A smilin', an' a 
smilin', an' a givin' away venison an' buds, an' a 
goin' to prayer, an' a grinnin' like hell, the infernals ! 
Good by, Buck ! Keep a sharp look out, an' speak 
if yer want to." 

So saying, the man went grumbling into the 
house. 

A bounteous breakfast was served, Tettatnow shar- 
ing his meal at a table with Mr. Thorpe, and the 
other Indians with the servants. Tettatnow was un- 
usually talkative and cheerful, and the others were 
bland and considerate in their demeanor, but not able 
to converse in English. The meal finished, every 
man went his way, wherever upon the plantation his 
services were required. Mrs. Howies, the housekeeper, 
composing her babe in its little bed, resumed her do- 
mestic cares, while Richard, her husband, smiling 
upon the infant, betook himself to the field. Tettat- 
now, begging of Mr. Thorpe the loan of a boat, sent 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 287 

one of his men across the river, while he and the 
other sauntered about the premises of Berkeley Hun- 
dred. 

Such was the free and easy deportment of the In- 
dians on this memorable Friday morning, not only 
on Mr. Thorpe's plantation, about five miles* from 
Charles City, but at all the English settlements to 
which they had gained access. 

Mr. Thorpe, after passing an hour or two in the 
business of his office, went out to inspect the labors 
of the field, and was immediately joined by Tettat- 
now and his companion. 

" I see," said he, " that many of your people are 
with us to-day. We are glad to see them." There 
were at least a dozen Indians then in sight. 

" So great hunt give our people much glad. They 
come to make much trade." 

A pleasant conversation followed, partly upon the 
English modes of tillage, partly upon matters of re- 
ligious faith and duty. Tettatnow was all attention, 
and manifested a very inquiring and teachable dis- 
position. Thus passed the time until nearly the 
hour of noon, when their conference was interrupted 
by Thomas, who called his master aside, saying : 
" Measter Thorpe, I can't be easy a minute, for these 
Indian devils. I must speak my mind, sir." 

" Well, Thomas, speak your mind, if it will make 
you easy." 

"I'm sure there 's mischief a brewin', sir, an' we 'd 
best take care of ourselves." 



* So says the " Declaration." Smith and Burk state the distance at 
fifty miles. 



288 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

u Thomas ! you are very suspicious, and, it seems 
to me, without any reason. We have always treated 
the Indians kindly. It is for their interest to behave 
peaceably, and they cannot wish or dare to do us any 
harm. Besides, they would fear to offend their chief, 
who is our firm friend. Look, Thomas ! every Indian 
whom you see is unarmed. They have no bows and 
arrows, nor any other weapons. Go to your work, 
man, and give up these foolish fears." 

" If you 'd a seed what I have, sir, maybe you 'd 
think different." 

" What have you seen, Thomas ? " 

" I seed them three when you was to prayer, Meas- 
ter, an' they 'd the strangest look o' their eyes you 
ever seed." 

"What look?" 

" Ugly, like ; kind o' snaky, sir, just as though 
they 'd jump an' eat every mother's son o' us." 

" All a fancy of yours, Thomas." 

"I do' know, Measter, I do' know. Sometimes 
a man's eyes tells tales when he don't mean it, a bein' 
more honest nor himself. Besides, I 've seed them 
copper-faces all over the field a puttin' their cussed 
heads together, just as if they was a plottin' some- 
thin' ; an' a lookin' up to the sun as if they wanted 
to see the time o' day. What d' they want o' the 
time o' day ? An' then, not half an hour ago, they 
begins to keep up kind o' close to us when we 's to 
work, — closer nor /like, Measter Thorpe." 

" Do let them talk together, if they want to ; and if 
you don't like them so near, tell them so. Don't be 
foolish, man." 

" An' then, sir, the dog, he keeps a growlin' an' a 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 289 

growlin'. An' not half an hour ago, what does he do 
but he ups an' begins a howlin' an' a howlin' like 
mad. He smells somethin' wrong, I 'm sure. Them 
dogs ha' got strange foresight sometimes. I wish 
you 'd let me unchain him, sir." 

" No, no, Thomas. If he is so uneasy, he would 
only frighten, or perhaps bite, these poor naked In- 
dians. Let him be, and be easy yourself, can't 
you ? " 

" Then, sir," continued the man, with tears in his 
eyes, " I beg you to go away into the house. For 
God's sake, sir, take care of yourself. There 's no 
harm in that" 

" I '11 take care, my good fellow," said Mr. Thorpe, 
much affected by the man's emotion ; " but the In- 
dians are my friends." 

" Good God, Measter ! I beg you to come away. 
If you won't, let me take care of myself." 

" O yes ! " replied Mr. Thorpe, laughing ; " only 
don't forget your dinner, Thomas. It will be ready 
soon " ; and he returned to his Indian friends, while 
his timid servant swiftly disappeared. 

Tettatnow, upon Mr. Thorpe's return, eagerly pro- 
pounded a question about the Christian's heaven, 
which roused all the good man's enthusiasm. 

" It is a glorious heaven, Tettatnow ; full of love, 
full of happiness. All are good there ; no hatred, no 
sorrow, no doing wrong. We are both great sinners, 
Tettatnow ; but if we love Jesus and serve him here, 
then he will forgive us, and we shall both go there 
and see him. And oh ! it will be enough only to 
see Him, — our Redeemer ! And then he will smile 
upon us, and call us his people, and tell us how he 

25 



290 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

has always loved us. And then our hearts will be so 
full of joy, that we shall always be singing, i Glory 
and honor and — ' " 

When and where and how did this lay apostle 
finish his description? Not in this world. A blow 
from behind, dealt with the whole strength of the 
stranger Indian, had cleft the good man's skull. At 
the instant, Tettatnow raised the war-yell. It was 
echoed on every side. Indians sprang from the 
woods, armed with bows and arrows and tomahawks. 
Three or four men fell instantly by the hands of the 
Indians who were near them, struck down with their 
own implements of husbandry. Others, taking the 
alarm, attempted flight. Shrieks came from the 
house, but only a momentary effort could the mother 
make to save her child. Both were slain, as was the 
husband and father abroad. Brief cries for help, and 
dying groans from strong men struck unawares, re- 
sounded from the field. The straggling Indians in 
sight, reinforced by those who had lain in ambush, 
made quick and savage work with their unsuspecting 
victims. The mastiff yelled with rage, and leaped 
frantically to the end of his chain. But it was strong, 
and the faithful creature, before whom every Indian 
would have fled, expended his efforts in vain. The 
work of death went on amid the yells of onslaught 
and of triumph. A single man — it was Howies, 
nerved by the thought of his wife and babe — chanced 
to stand at bay ; but unarmed, bewildered, and sur- 
rounded by half a score of foes, he added but a mo- 
ment to his life. On the ploughed field, on the grass, 
in the house, lay eleven corpses weltering in blood, — 
Mr. Thorpe, eight men, one mother, and her child. 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 291 

Whether any escaped, save the man Thomas, does 
not appear in the records of the transaction. Not ten 
minutes had passed after Mr. Thorpe fell, when the 
slaughter was over, and every noise had ceased but 
the shouts of the butchers and the furious howls of 
the mastiff. The slaughter was over, but not the 
work. Scalps hung dripping at the warrior's belts, 
or dangling upon poles. Pagan Indians sported with 
English blood, — just as baptized English did with 
Scotch blood, more than a hundred years after, on the 
field of Culloden.* They mangled and quartered 
their victims, and tore them piecemeal, and flung 
their hearts, throbbing with lingering life, upon glow- 
ing coals, and hung their heads on high for the car- 
rion-birds, — all of which was only just as the minions 
of George the Second did in Christian London, in the 
seventeen hundred and forty-sixth year of Grace.f 
Not a corpse was cold before it was draggled in frag- 
ments across the field, or flung by bits from Indian to 
Indian, as boys fling snow-balls in winter, or as fools 
do sugar-plums in Carnival. The body of Mr. Thorpe, 
their best friend, their unwearied benefactor, fared no 
better, but was " abused with such spight and scorn 
as is unfit to be heard or related." " Not hee hath 
lost by it," says the chronicler whom we follow, " not 
hee hath lost by it, who, to the comfort of vs all, hath 
gayned a Crowne of endless blisse, and is assuredly 
become a glorious Martyr, in which thrice-happy and 
blessed state we leaue him." 

* " The men [English soldiers] at length began to amuse themselves 
by splashing and dabbling each other with blood." Chambers's History 
of the Rebellion of 1 745 - 6, Chap. XXIV. Scots' Magazine, VIII. 1 92. 

t Chambers, Chap. XXIX. Jessie's Memoirs of the Pretenders, II. 
255, 256. 



292 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

At length the frantic orgies ceased. The Indians 
retired to the woods with their trophies, and Berke- 
ley Hundred, but just before full of happy life and 
hardy industry, was left to Death and Silence. Even 
the dog, exhausted by his own violence, and horror- 
stricken by the scenes he had witnessed, lay whining, 
and trembling, and alone. 

But Berkeley Hundred was not the only field of 
blood that day. Its tragedy was small compared 
with what was enacted elsewhere. On no less than 
thirty other plantations, at the same hour of high 
noon, the same signal of attack was given by other 
Indian parties, who had sauntered into the settle- 
ments on the same pretences, and with the same 
innocence of deportment. Their familiarity with the 
English had long been such, that " they knew exactly 
at what places and quarters every Englishman was to 
be found " ; and they stationed themselves accord- 
ingly, those in ambush patiently waiting for the sig- 
nal from their fellows who had dispersed over the 
plantations. At the same hour of high noon, through- 
out all those scattered settlements, the same signal, 
the same work of death ; and before that one hour 
had expired, three hundred and forty-seven English — 
in some places only two, in others a dozen, twenty, 
fifty, at Martin's Hundred seventy-three — had fallen 
victims, not only killed, but brained, beheaded, dis- 
embowelled, hacked asunder, kicked piecemeal about 
their fields, hung in fragments on the limbs of their 
trees or the posts of their doors. Men, women, and 
children were indiscriminately slaughtered and indis- 
criminately outraged after death. Of these, eighty- 
ge ven — as nearly as can be determined from the 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 293 

lists given — were women and children, and six were 
members of the Governor's Council. 

The plot embraced every individual settlement in 
Virginia; and there were eighty of them, scattered 
along the James River for an extent of a hundred 
and forty miles, and northward even as far as the Po- 
tomac River. But the angel of mercy had interceded, 
and an invisible line had been drawn, beyond which 
the destroyers could not pass. In some few places, 
the design had been detected just long enough to ad- 
mit of defensive measures. In such cases, the attack 
was either wholly prevented or but partially successful. 
Such was their conviction of the advantages of Eng- 
lish weapons, that the least sign of preparation, the 
least show of resistance, was sufficient so to intimi- 
date the Indians that they struck feebly or not at all. 
Nathanael Causie, a veteran soldier who had served 
under Captain Smith, though dreadfully wounded, 
managed to brain one of a party who assailed him, 
upon which the rest fled in consternation, and he 
escaped. A Mr. Baldwin, his wounded wife lying 
for dead at his feet, saved her life, his household, and 
his house, by a single firelock, although surrounded 
by scores of assailants. Two men who had retreated 
to a house defended themselves successfully against 
a party of sixty. On one plantation, the Indians had 
slaughtered six men, wounded the remaining seventh, 
and fired the house, when a boy, by one random dis- 
charge of a gun, frightened them away, and saved the 
lives of about twenty women and children. Even a 
defence with only spades, axes, and brickbats was 
sufficient to make the savages abandon an attack. 

But to one incident chiefly were the survivors in- 

25* 



294 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

debted for their salvation. There were two Indians, 
brothers, who were habitually employed to hunt for 
the English, one of whom was domesticated in the 
family of Perry, the other in that of Pace. On the 
night before the massacre, they lodged together in 
Pace's house. One of them, whose name was 
Chanco, was a Christian convert. During the night, 
his brother revealed to Chanco the plan of attack for 
the next day, at the same time telling him that it was 
his duty as a subject of Opechancanough, by whose 
command it was to be executed, to take part in the 
tragedy, and ordering him in the chief's name to kill 
Pace, while he himself should be gone to do the same 
to Perry. The brother then departed upon his errand. 
" A summons of such tenor was well calculated to 
prevail with a savage mind ; but a new mind had 
been given to this convert." Shocked at the atrocity 
of the order, — for Pace was not only a fellow-man, 
but had ever treated him with parental and Christian 
kindness, — he left his bed immediately upon his 
brother's departure, and disclosed the plot to Pace. 
The latter, first fortifying his own house and with all 
despatch, instantly rowed across the river, nearly three 
miles, to Jamestown, and communicated his startling 
intelligence to the Governor. Sir Francis took prompt 
measures to alarm " such other plantations as was 
possible for a timely intelligence to be given," and as 
many as received the warning were consequently on 
their guard. This was sufficient for their preserva- 
tion. 

But for this eleventh-hour discovery, the slaughter 
would probably have been universal. " For euen," 
says our chronicler, " in the deliuerie of vs that now 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 295 

suruiue, no man's particular carefulnesse saued any 
one person, but the meere goodnesse of God himselfe 
freely and miraculously preserued whom it pleased 
him. Such was the good fruit of an Infidell conuert- 
ed to Christianity. Blessed be God for euer, whose 
mercy endureth for euer; Blessed be God, whose 
mercy is aboue his iustice, and farre aboue all his 
workes : who wrought this deliuerance, whereby their 
soules escaped, euen as a Bird out of the snare of the 
Fowler." 

During the four years succeeding the death of Pow- 
hattan, Opechancanough had been devising this at- 
tack upon the English settlements, preparing the 
minds of his warriors for it, inflaming his people, and 
drilling them to the habit of concerted movement 
necessary to its execution. Having unbounded influ- 
ence with them as a warrior and a counsellor, he easl- 
ly imparted his own implacable and deadly hatred 
of the foreigners. But though a man of intrepid 
courage in his own rude mode of warfare, he felt his 
inferiority to the English in respect to the weapons of 
war, and would not suffer his burning hatred to get 
the better of sound discretion. He therefore adopted 
a policy of profound dissimulation ; and so absolutely 
and perfectly, during all these years, did he repress 
beneath the same mask the impatient rage of his war- 
riors, that not a word had slipped, not a hint had been 
dropped, not an unguarded look had occurred, to fore- 
shadow the plot. The blow and the war-whoop were 
its first tokens, and nine tenths of the victims knew 
not the hand or the weapon which felled them. 

The deportment of Opechancanough himself to- 



296 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

wards the English was uniformly affable and frank ; 
and it is said that " he was often the equitable media- 
tor in differences which arose between the English 
and his countrymen." 

The sad events of the 22d explained his " motions 
of religion," and his behavior in regard to the death of 
Nemattanow. The former were pretences assumed 
as the most effectual means to lull all lingering suspi- 
cions of his hostility, and to inspire an overweening 
confidence. He was heartily glad of the death of 
Nemattanow, both because his way was cleared of 
one who might rival him in the reverence and affec- 
tion of his people, and also because it afforded him an 
opportunity further to quiet the apprehensions of the 
English, and thus to strike the blow which he had so 
long meditated. The Indians were enraged to the 
last degree at the death of their favorite, and their 
chief affected to share their wrath ; while nothing 
could have been more opportune to his purpose of 
extermination, than the quiet which he induced in 
the minds of the English by seeming to subdue resent- 
ment out of deference to them and a desire for peace. 
If he could assure them, under such provocation, that 
" the sky would fall before he should break peace," 
what, they plausibly reasoned, had they to fear from 
the enmity of Opechancanough ? Of this reasoning 
he was aware. His warriors were ripe, his enemies 
were asleep ; the time had come, and the blow was 
struck. 

Virginia was stunned. For more than three weeks 
the people were " driven to their wits' end ere they 
could resolve what to do." At length it was ordered 
that they should be gathered within the limits of five 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 297 

or six well-fortified places in the neighborhood of 
Jamestown, which was accordingly done. Public en- 
terprises were abandoned ; — the iron-works at Falling 
Creek, where all had been murdered but a girl and a 
boy ; the glass-works at Jamestown, designed partic- 
ularly for the manufacture of beads for traffic ; and 
the College. The people were crowded into a space 
too narrow ; the fields under cultivation were insuffi- 
cient for their wants ; a scarcity of food followed, 
attended by much sickness ; and many of the colo- 
nists hurriedly returned to England, or migrated to 
the tract of country afterwards known as North Caro- 
lina. The colonists soon numbered only twenty-five 
hundred, and the cattle but one thousand. 

As a commercial speculation, the Virginia enter- 
prise was a failure. The visions of gold and pearls 
and precious stones which had floated before the eyes 
of the orignal members of the Company had proved 
baseless. Even the returns of real merchandise had 
been nothing in comparison with the moneys invest- 
ed, the profit from tobacco itself, the only staple of 
the country, having been forestalled by the arbitrary 
impositions of the king. When, therefore, the news 
of this fresh and bloody disaster was received, it pro- 
duced a great sensation in England. Many of the 
shareholders abandoned the enterprise, and sold their 
shares for what they could. But though the hopes of 
the speculators were crushed, the feelings of humanity 
were roused. New shareholders, touched with sym- 
pathy for their countrymen in the wilderness, readily 
took the places of the sellers, and contributions were 
raised to supply the necessities of the colony. One 
nobleman gave sixty coats of mail; the city of Lon- 



298 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

don sent out a hundred settlers; and vessels were 
promptly despatched with provisions and other stores. 
Even the soul of King James was moved, although 
he had been thorning the company for years. He 
would furnish a quantity of arms from the Tower, 
twenty barrels of gunpowder, and four hundred sol- 
diers. It was a spasmodic effort at generosity, — too 
^reat for his heart. He failed under it. The arms, 
indeed, he gave, — though historians say that they 
were good for nothing; the powder he lent on the 
Company's bond ; the soldiers never appeared. 

Captain Smith, with the spirit of self-sacrifice for 
which he was always distinguished, offered himself. 
He did " intreat and moue " the Company " to use 
him " ; offering to go in person to Virginia, and, " by 
God's assistance, to force the savages to leave the 
country, or bring them into such subjection that every 
man should follow his business securely." He only 
asked that the company would furnish him with a hun- 
dred soldiers and the necessary supplies, waiving all 
compensation save what " he himself could produce 
from the proper labor of the savages." The Company 
as a body did not act upon this proposition ; but indi- 
vidual members told him that the charges would be too 
great, and the treasury was empty ; but that he might 
obtain leave, if he would give the Company half the 
pillage ! " I would not give twenty pound for all the 
pillage is to be got amongst the savages in twenty 
years," is his indignant comment upon this overture. 
Now, although the treasury was empty, yet the Com- 
pany were even then proposing to raise a salary of 
£ 20,000 per annum for a new and quixotic scheme ; * 

* Smith, 153. 



THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 299 

and besides, so niggardly a reply to Smith's noble offer 
was utterly " at variance with the character of the 
Company and its leaders, who were rather profuse in 
their expenses for the good of the colony, than lying 
upon the catch for little advantages and mean gains." 
How, then, are the reply of individuals and the silence 
of the Company to be accounted for? for the offer 
" was published in their Court." When we consider 
that the Company then was not what it was when 
Smith was in its employ ; that it was largely imbued 
with the elements of a high aristocracy; that lords 
and earls and bishops were among its members ; that, 
ever since this change, he had uniformly been treated 
with neglect, and his services declined ; that it has 
ever been an axiom in British Councils, "that high 
capacity is only to be supposed or encouraged in per- 
sons of rank," and also an axiom, u that offices of 
emolument and posts of honor belong of right and 
exclusively to the nobility," — we may perhaps dis- 
cern the true reason. " Rather let three hundred and 
forty-seven more throats be cut, than that honor ac- 
crue so cheaply to a mere soldier of fortune ! " is not 
always inconsistent with the pride or the conscience 
of peerage. To this pride the commonalty of Eng- 
land have always succumbed; never has the public 
voice remonstrated against its exclusiveness, save in 
Cromwell's day, until the year 1854. 

Daring the summer following the massacre there 
were no special disturbances between the colonists 
and the natives. The English, refraining from hostili- 
ties, and assuming rather the attitude of timidity, 
sought " to lull the Indians into the better securitie," 
the more easily to strike their prey. They made no 



300 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

movement "till their corne was ripe," when three 
hundred of the best soldiers, under command of Sir 
George Yeardley, suddenly attacked them at Nanse- 
mond, and at Pamunkey, the principal residence of 
Opechancanough. But little was accomplished, how- 
ever, except the burning of wigwams, the seizure of 
some corn, and the destruction of more ; for the In- 
dians, well acquainted with the country, expert at sly 
and noiseless movements in the woods, and nimble of 
foot, readily evaded pursuers who were encumbered 
with armor. In many instances, the destruction of 
their corn and their huts was the work of the Indians 
themselves. At Pamunkey, the English were duped 
by specious promises and artful parleys, until the In- 
dians had transported most of their corn into the 
recesses of the forests. Some of the English were 
wounded by ambuscades ; and they returned from 
their foray " supposing that they slew two " Indians, 
— a bootless and mortifying result. 

Another course was now adopted. u The Indians 
were invited from then* fastnesses by the hope of 
peace, and the solemn assurances of safety and for- 
giveness. Confiding in these, they returned to their 
former habitations and avocations." By this strata- 
gem the colonists effected a sanguinary vengeance, 
" without regard to age, sex, or infancy." 

In 1623 they organized several parties under dis- 
tinct commands, who assaulted as many different 
native settlements on the same day, the 23d of July, 
" and slew great numbers." The Indians, greatly 
reduced in number, disabled, and driven back into the 
wilderness, abandoned to the English their fields and 
villages on the James and York Rivers, 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 

King James was in very ill humor. He did 

16^3 
not like the Company. They traded in tobacco, 

which, he said, " was only fit to regale the Devil after 

dinner," and against which he had published a book, — 

though he liked its revenue. Besides, the Company 

had become democratic in the spirit and style of their 

meetings for business, and upon these occasions said 

things which did not agree with his notions of the 

rights of kings, or with his exercise of "kingcraft." 

They refused, sometimes, to do as he wanted them to 

do ; they talked about their Charter, about their rights 

under the Charter, about what were the rights of 

Englishmen, and about what were not the rights of 

kings. Rights ! What right had they to canvass 

rights, — his rights, and their rights, and especially 

rights under their Charter ? Charter, forsooth ! Where 

did they get their Charter ? Was it not his gift of 

grace ? To be sure it was ; and if he could give it, 

he could take it again ! They were getting naughty, 

troublesome ; were presuming to look their king in 

the face, and even to gainsay him sometimes. Again : 

they were ruling affairs on another continent, — a part 

of his dominions, too, — and he chose to rule there 

himself. So he would take away then' Charter, which 

they swaggered about so much, and teach the fellows 

26 



302 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

manners. If a charter made them great, he would 
show them that no Charter would make them little, — 
the upstarts ! 

He went to work accordingly. But he always pre- 
ferred a cunning, sneaking way of doing a thing, even 
when an honest, open, manly way would do it better. 
So he manoeuvred, and made men-tools to rake oat 
his chestnuts with. We need not lay open the inter- 
nal history of the Company, nor James's long course 
of teasing tyranny towards them, nor his spiteful cru- 
sade against tobacco, their only source of revenue.* 
It is sufficient to say, that, while the king was resolved 
upon the dissolution of the Company, and to take the 
colony into his own hands, he wanted to do so with 
some show of decency. He would proceed, therefore, 
according to the forms of law. He could do so safely ; 
for in those days judges of courts judged as was the 
king's judgment. Thus he would gain his end, and 
at the same time " impress the nation with an opinion 
of his justice and integrity." At least so he thought, 
although the nation were not so mole-eyed as he sup- 
posed. But first he wanted to make it appear that 
there was some great reason for proceedings against 
the Company ; that they had managed affairs very 
badly, — much against the welfare of his dear sub- 
jects in Virginia. 

To this end, he instigated flagrant charges against 
the Company ; whether true or false was immaterial. 
The result of this was easily foreseen. Two papers, 
in particular, were presented to his Majesty, — the 
one urging an examination of the state of things in 

=* An elaborate history of these matters is given by Stith ; a more 
compendious one, by Burk. 



THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 303 

Virginia, the other describing frightful evils there 
which could be remedied only "by a divine and 
supreme hand," meaning, of course, the hand of 
King James. Upon this, he had his Privy Council 
appoint five Commissioners to examine Virginia it- 
self, and, right or wrong, to bring back an evil report 
of the land. Two of these, John Pory and John 
Harvey, were sent from England ; one, John Jeffer- 
son, took no part in the matter, being a hearty friend 
to the Company ; and two, Samuel Matthews and 
Abraham Percy, resided in Virginia. 

In the beginning of the year 1624, Captain 
Harvey and Mr. Pory arrived at Jamestown. 
On the 26th of January, warrants were issued for a 
General Assembly; not, however, at the suggestion 
of the Commissioners. The people had been advised 
of what had passed in England, and copies of the 
papers presented to the king had been received. The 
general purport of these papers was, that the colony, 
for the most part, had flourished while Sir Thomas 
Smith was the Company's manager, namely, until 
1619, but had fallen into a wretched state since. 

To these statements the Assembly gave their first 
attention. They met on the 14th of February, and 
on the 20th had drawn up their answers, addressed to 
the king and to the Privy Council. Their motives 
were, as stated in their own words, " that the world 
might not be abused with false reports." In one of 
these answers, they made the appalling statements 
which we have cited on a previous page of our nar- 
rative.* In reference to the royal intention of a change 

* See Chapter XII. 



304 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

of government,, they took occasion also to address the 
Privy Council in the bold and spirited language of 
men resolute for political liberty. u We desire," they 
said, " that the governors sent over may not have 
absolute authority, but may be restrained to the con- 
sent of the Council. We have found inconveniences 
by the strict limitations of Governor and Council to 
proceed according to their instructions out of Eng- 
land ; for those things, in so far distance, might seem 
good advice which might happen to prove very incon- 
venient in execution ; neither is it fit that any main 
project should be set on foot which had not first 

approbation from hence Above all, we make 

our humble request that we still retain the liberty of 
our General Assemblies, than which nothing could 
more conduce to the public satisfaction and public 
utility." 

In the drafting and passing of these petitions and 
representations, Sir Francis Wyatt, the Governor, 
was most strenuous, active, and cordial. " They 
were carried in Assembly with the utmost unanim- 
ity and despatch."* 

The Commissioners artfully attempted to entice 
the Assembly, and to make them play into the king's 
hand ; but that body had too much spirit, intelli- 
gence, and self-respect, to demean themselves as 
tools in a quarrel between the king and the Com- 
pany. The Commissioners were baffled, and beyond 
measure chagrined ; although the Assembly gave 
them every facility for obtaining true information 
respecting the state of the colony. Further than 

* See above, note, pp. 188, 189. 



THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 305 

this, they received no attentions whatever. The 
legislature proceeded to its ordinary business, " as 
if no such persons as the Commissioners had ever 
been in existence." 

The laws passed at this session show how strongly 
the Virginians, at that early day, were imbued with 
the spirit of rational, constitutional liberty. Among 
other things, they enacted " that the Governor should 
not lay taxes, save by authority of the General As- 
sembly, to be levied and employed as they should 
appoint ; that he should not withdraw the inhabitants 
from their own labors to his ; that, in case any public 
emergency should require their services before the 
Assembly could be convened, men should be levied 
by order of the Governor and the whole body of the 
Council, and in such a way as should be the least 
burdensome." Thus did this excellent Governor, Sir 
Francis Wyatt, and the Burgesses of Virginia, pro- 
claim the fundamental principle of constitutional gov- 
ernment, — the sacred right of the subject to his 
property and to the liberty of his person ; the very 
burden of that famous Petition of Right sanctioned 
as law by Charles the First in 1628, amid the accla- 
mations of the British Parliament, and to the universal 
joy of the nation* 

Other important laws — and these are the earliest 
laws of Virginia now extant — were passed at this 
session of the legislature. They chiefly related to the 
church and its ministry, the administration of justice, 
the raising of crops, and the protection of the planters 
against the Indians. It was also ordered, that, " at 

* Hume's History of England, Chap. II., Vol. III. p. 429, Philadelphia 
edition, 1822. 

26* 



306 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the beginning of July following, every corporation 
should fall upon their adjoining Indians." 

Yet there was one domestic evil, extensively pre- 
vailing and seriously affecting the peace and happi- 
ness of the community, with reference to which this 
Assembly, with all their zeal for the public good, did 
not legislate. This neglect is not easily to be ac- 
counted for ; but certain it is, that they left for the 
Governor to do that which, as fathers of the people, 
they should have done themselves. There was in 
the colony a tendency to matrimony. An attempt to 
check it would have been neither politic nor avail- 
able. Yet it certainly required the interference of 
civil authority in some shape, it was producing such 
melancholy consequences. 

A young man, attracted by the lively features, the 
rosy health, and the efficient housewifery of a young 
maiden, woos her smiles and wins them. A second, 
a third, a fourth even, are equally encouraged, and to 
each in course she is pledged as a wife. Thus the 
fair one appropriates to herself four times her fair pro- 
portion of the mystic delights of courtship, while her 
suitors, each unsuspicious of a rival, are building 
castles in the air, and dreaming vain dreams about 
children and children's children. Fancy their chagrin, 
fancy their indignation, fancy their possible quarrels, 
when the truth is discovered, — heretofore good neigh- 
bors and warm friends, now inveterate rivals ! Each 
has his claims, each has his darling plans for the 
future, each has his honest and manly attachment 
for the fair one and false, and neither is disposed 
to yield. 

Such, we regret to say, was the naughtiness of 



THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 307 

Virginia maidens at the time of which we write. 
So prevalent was the habit of coquetry, that no 
bachelor could feel confident of becoming a married 
man until the vows had been exchanged at the altar. 
A bad state of society this ! Heartburnings, aliena- 
tions, feuds, it certainly produced ; perhaps duels and 
bloodshed, maiming and death. The women said it 
was the fault of the men; they were so many, so 
ardent, so importunate, and so determined, that they 
would not be denied ; and that a " Yes " for every 
wooer was the only means for the women to live in 
" peace." In this there was doubtless some truth. 
On the other hand, the men, to justify the ardor 
and pertinacity of their courtship, pleaded the great 
scarcity of women, — a fact which none could dis- 
pute. Sir Francis Wyatt said "that the fault was 
in the women, that their behavior was a crying sin," 
(to be sure it was !) " that it must be stopped. He 
would not have the men trifled with so." And as 
there was no Sir Edwin Sandys now in power in 
England to import "virgins young and uncorrupt,"* 
Sir Francis resorted to the only other means of re- 
forming the bad manners of the women. He issued 
a proclamation forbidding any one to contract herself 

* I find no trace of young women being sent over "to make wives " 
after the year 1620, until 1632, under which date is the following by 
Burk (II. 36) : "It appears by a regulation of the Council, tbat this in- 
teresting object of trade was yet continued. The seeming want of deli- 
cacy in this procedure, which sprang from necessity alone, is qualified 
by the nice and pointed attention paid to the chastity and reputation of 
their wives before, and their delicate and liberal deportment to them 
after marriage. By an Order of Council of this year, two maids, each of 
whom had made a, faux pas during the passage, were ordered to be sent 
back, as unworthy to propagate the race of Virginians." 



308 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

to more than one man at once. He ordained that 
" what woman soever should use any word or speech 
tending to a contract of marriage to two several per- 
sons at the same time, although not precise and legal, 
yet so as might entangle or breed scruple in their con- 
sciences, should, for such her offence, either undergo 
corporal correction, or be punished by fine, or other- 
wise, according to the quality of the person so offend- 
ing." This last clause indicates that the offence was 
not limited to a class. It is to be hoped that the evil 
habit of these early brides of Virginia was so season- 
ably corrected as to prevent its hereditary transmis- 
sion. Doubtless it was. 

The Commissioners returned to England soured in 
their feelings toward the Virginian Assembly, and 
irritated by their failure to involve that body in the 
schemes of the king. Their report to James was 
framed according to his wishes. Thereupon, in July, 
he suspended the action of the Company by procla- 
mation, pushed the legal inquiry into its conduct and 
pretensions, and the Court of the King's Bench gave 
judgment that the Charter was forfeited. Thus the 
Company was arbitrarily and violently dissolved, and 
the government of Virginia reverted to the crown. 

No compensation was made to the shareholders for 
their large and generous expenditures, which had been 
equivalent to nearly seven hundred thousand dollars. 
Thus the crown of England acquired an established 
and thriving colony cheap ! It was the greatest finan- 
cial operation of the king. He survived it only eight 
months ; and when he was laid in his tomb, no one 
wept. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

ANNALS. 

No plan of government for Virginia was de- 

1 r*0/i 
termined upon by the king when the Company 

was dissolved. He would frame one in his closet, he 
said. But death interfered before he had matured it. 
He had, however, issued a royal commission to Sir 
Francis Wyatt as Governor, and had appointed eleven 
gentlemen as his Council, or assistants, to administer 
the government of the colony until he should have 
perfected a permanent arrangement for the future. 
The colonists had petitioned his Majesty on three 
several points, one of which was " that the use of 
Assemblies might be continued " ; but to this prayer 
the king paid no attention. The fact that in the com- 
mission to Wyatt " all mention of Assemblies was 
omitted," does by no means indicate then* suppres- 
sion. The subject was simply untouched by James. 

Upon the accession of Charles to the throne, 
he adopted the same arrangement for the col- 
ony which James had left, expressly declaring, how- 
ever, that it was only an arrangement for the time 
being, until he could decide upon a permanent one. 
In his commission for this purpose, he also made no 
mention of an Assembly. 

In the next year, Wyatt leaving Virginia 
to attend to his estate at home, Sir George A 



310 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Yeardley succeeded him as Governor. By Ids com- 
mission, dated in 1625, the powers of the Governor 
were expressly limited, " as for the five last years pre- 
ceding " ; during which precise years the executive 
had been limited by an Assembly.* 

In 1627, King Charles, in a letter to the 
Governor and Council, proposed to become 
the purchaser, at certain rates, of the colony's entire 
crop of tobacco, and in the same paper desired the 
calling of an Assembly to take into consideration his 
proposal, and directed that the result of their delibera- 
tions should be forwarded to him. This was " an 
express acknowledgment of the right of Virginia to 
legislate for herself, and even an order to her to ex- 
ercise it." 

In November or December Yeardley died, exceed- 
ingly lamented by the people whose interests he had 
assiduously cherished. It was he who had first called 
upon the Virginians to legislate for themselves, and 
they honored and loved him accordingly. The Coun- 

* Respecting the uninterrupted continuance of Assemblies in Vir- 
ginia, historians disagree. Most writers assert that they were not sus- 
pended upon the dissolution of the Company. Campbell avers that they 
were ; appeals to Chalmers and Hening, and rejects the emphatic state- 
ments of Beverly and Burk. The latter refers for proof to a document 
in his Appendix ; but, as Campbell says, " it is not found there." But 
Burk would not have appealed to a phantom. Nor is it to be lightly 
supposed that so careful a writer could have asserted the uninterrupted 
course of Assemblies so strongly, so positively, and yet erroneously. 
Add to this, that, in the very next year (1627), Charles himself requested 
the calling of an Assembly, and in a way which presupposed that body 
to be necessary to the regular action of the colonial government. Most 
historians state that the words " for the last five years preceding," limit- 
ing the executive by an Assembly, were contained in King James's 
commission to JVyatt. I trustfully follow Burk. His language on pp. 
10, 14, 15, is very strong, decided, and explicit. 



ANNALS. 311 

cil, upon whom devolved the right and duty, imme- 
diately supplied his place by the election of Francis 
West. This year, one thousand settlers arrived from 
England. 

West left for England on the 5th of March, 
1628,* and John Potts was elected Governor 1628# 
by the Council. The Assembly convened on the 
20th of March drafted an answer to the king, re- 
spectfully, but decidedly, declining his proposal. f 

Potts continued in office until the close of 
the year 1629, when he was superseded, by 
Sir John Harvey, bearing the authority of a royal 
commission. He had been one of the Commission- 
ers of Investigation appointed by King James to visit 
and malign Virginia in 1624. He now returned with 
a rankling remembrance of the mortification which 
he had then encountered, when vainly attempting to 
tamper with the Assembly. 

He hated Assemblies, and it was the aim of 
his policy to bring them into disuse. Yet he 
convened his first on the 24th of March, 1630. He 
commenced his administration by proclamation-law, 
which he permitted the House only to ratify by their 
act of record, thus absorbing the legislation in him- 
self and his Council. In this way he levied the reve- 
nue, and in this way, for innumerable petty offences, 

* Hening, as quoted by Campbell, 54. 

f Burk, II. 24. Campbell and Bancroft assign this Assembly to 
1629. Campbell says that their answer to the king was signed by Francis 
West, Governor ; and yet adds, on the authority of Hening, that Potts 
was elected March 5th, 1628, — a year before (according to him) the let- 
ter was drafted, and a year after West had retired from office and from 
Virginia. Burk, in fixing the meeting of the Assembly in 1628, and 
under the administration of Potts, is at least consistent with himself. 



312 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

he imposed arbitrary fines, which were appropriated 
to his personal use. This course was at first sec- 
onded by the Council, who were soon, however, like 
the Burgesses, reduced to the .condition of puppets. 
Both bodies were probably led, for a while, to submit 
in silence, from an unwillingness to be found in col- 
lision with the representative of their king. But soon 
the exactions, the inhumanity, and the insolence of 
the Governor became intolerable. The people be- 
came indignant, clamorous, and even inclined to open 
resistance. The Council now sympathized with the 
people. The Assembly which was convened 
in February, 1631, boldly exercised their rights. 
After remaining quiet until the month of March, they 
passed a law forbidding the levying of any tax with- 
out the consent of the Assembly ; and they also en- 
acted "that the Governor should in future have no 
power to enforce the services of the colonists for his 
private benefit, or to levy them for war, without the 
consent of the Council." Both these acts seem to have 
been only re-enactments of the laws of 1624 on the 
same points. The acts of all former Assemblies, this 
Assembly repealed ; hence, doubtless, the passage of 
these acts at this time. The Governor found it vain 
to contend with the sturdy spirit which he had roused, 
and the acts received his official approval. 

About this time the king issued to his favorites 
grants of land, which lay within the geographical 
limits of Virginia. A particular notice of these grants 
belongs more appropriately to the histories of Mary- 
land and Carolina. It is sufficient here to say, that 
they were resented by the Virginians as encroach- 
ments upon their rights ; that Governor Harvey sec- 



ANNALS. 313 

onded the course of the sovereign, and that he even 
gave away, in conjunction with certain royal commis- 
sioners, not only large tracts of the land belonging (ac- 
cording to the ethics of the day) to the crown, but oth- 
ers, belonging to private planters. Thus matters 
went on until April and May, 1635, when the 
Council peremptorily deposed Harvey from office, 
" until the king's pleasure should be known " ; and 
the Assembly, in compliance with a petition from the 
planters, collected evidence of the charges against him, 
to be presented to the king by a deputation from their 
own body. These charges were " haughtiness, rapa- 
city, and cruelty, contempt of the rights of the colo- 
nists, and usurpation of the privileges of the Council." 
He was sent to England with the delegates of the 
Assembly, that his case might be presented to the 
king. Charles, viewing the deposition of a royal 
governor in the light of a treasonable act, was highly 
incensed, refused audience to the delegates, and im- 
mediately ordered the return of Harvey, and his re- 
installation in office. He resumed his station 
in January, 1636, and held it until displaced 
by Sir Francis Wyatt, in November, 1639. By a 
law of this year (1639), "Jamestown was fixed upon 
as the permanent seat of government." Wyatt gave 
place to Sir William Berkeley, who arrived with the 
king's commission, and assumed the govern- 
ment in February, 1642. Upon the return of 
Harvey to Virginia, and by virtue of his new com- 
mission, the Council had been denied the right to 
fill their own vacancies. The crown had reserved it 
to itself. But under the commission to Berkeley, 

27 



314 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the king waived this right, and restored it to the 
Council. 

In March, Sir William convoked the Assembly. 
He had been educated at Oxford, where he had taken 
the degree of Master of Arts in 1629. He had then 
travelled extensively in Europe, and was " the perfect 
model of an elegant courtier and a high-minded cava- 
lier." He was remarkable for his high sense of honor, 
and for his urbanity in the common intercourse of 
life, and seems to have been, at least at this time, a 
generous and warm-hearted man. With these quali- 
ties and accomplishments, he rendered himself at once 
personally acceptable to the Virginians ; and, although 
he was a stanch royalist, and largely imbued with the 
spirit and political sentiments of his sovereign, yet his 
administration was mild, and " he cordially co-operat- 
ed with the Council and the House of Burgesses in 
measures calculated to secure the liberties of the colo- 
ny." Under these circumstances, there was harmony 
between the Governor and the Assembly; and the 
colonists, enjoying general prosperity, were content. 

An event now occurred of no small political impor- 
tance. George Sandys had been sent to England as 
an agent for the colony, "with particular instructions 
to oppose the re-establishment of the Company " ; a 
project, it seems, for which several attempts had been 
made in England.* Betraying his trust, Sandys had 
presented to the House of Commons, and in the name 
of his constituents, a petition for the restoration of 

* For the particulars of this transaction, I rely upon a tract entitled 
"An Extract from a Manuscript Collection of Annals relating to Vir- 
ginia," in Force, Vol. III. 



ANNALS. 315 

the Company. So soon as this was known in Vir- 
ginia, the Assembly acted upon it with spirit and de- 
cision. Although the people had been averse to the 
dissolution of the Company, yet they had since en- 
joyed, for the most part, so great tranquillity and pros- 
perity, and were so secure in their rights as freemen, 
that they were yet more averse to any further change. 
The Assembly immediately passed an act disavowing 
the proceeding of Sandys. In their protest, they in- 
veighed severely, and, if we consider only their con- 
dition under the Company from 1619 to 1624, singu- 
larly ; though truthfully enough, if the whole term of 
the Company's existence be considered. They posi- 
tively refused to submit to that Company, " or to any 
other " ; and gave at large and earnestly their rea- 
sons for this refusal. But not content with this, they 
proceeded further, and issued their solemn declaration 
and protestation against the measure suggested. 

" We, the Governor, Council, and Burgesses, 

having taken into serious consideration, &c, do 

declare and testify to all the world, that we will 
never admit the restoring of said Company, or any 

for and in their behalf. And we do further en- 

act > that what person or persons soever either 

is or shall hereafter go about to sue 

for, advise, assist, abet, countenance, or contrive the 
reducing this colony to a company or corporation, 

shall be held and deemed an enemy to the 

colony, and shall forfeit his or their whole estate or 
estates that shall be found within the limits of the 
colony." 

The act was passed April 1st, 1642, was signed by 
the Governor, the members of the Council and of the 



316 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

House of Burgesses ; and they immediately applied 
to the king for his confirmation of it. 

This transaction was not only highly important and 
interesting, as marking the noble and determined spirit 
with which the Virginians met any attempt to inter- 
fere with their civil privileges, but as the cause of a 
most important act on the part of the crown. The 
Declaration, Protestation, and Act of the Assembly 
were returned with the royal assent. "We give the 
letter of the king in substance. 

u Charles, Rex. 

" Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. 

Whereas we have received a Petition from you, 

with a Declaration and Protestation against, &c, 

and against all such as shall go about to alienate you 

from our immediate protection These are to 

signify, that your acknowledgment of our grace, 
bounty, and favor towards you, and your so earnest 
desire to continue under our immediate protection, is 
very acceptable to us ; and that, as we had not before 
the least intention to consent to the introduction of 
any company over that our colony, so we are by it 
much confirmed in our resolution, as thinking it unfit 

to change a form of government wherein our 

subjects there receive so much contentment 

and satisfaction. And this our approbation of your 
Petition and Protestation we have thought fit to 
transmit to you, under our Royal Signet. 

" Given at our Court at York, the 5th of July, 
1642." 

The royal missive was directed, " To our trusty and 



ANNALS. 317 

well-beloved, our Governor, Council, and Burgesses 

of the Grand Assembly of Virginia." 

Thus the popular form of government in Virginia 

received the royal acknowledgment and sanction ; 

and " the constitution of the colony was established 

on a foundation which could not be altered without 

their own consent." 

- 



27* 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 

The natives had never abated their hatred or 
abandoned their hostilities toward the usurp- 
ers of their soil. The white men had no sooner begun 
again to expand their settlements after the slaughter 
of 1622, than they were compelled to be constantly on 
the alert against their subtle and untiring foes. 

In 1624, even the apathy of Itopatin was laid aside. 
Near the close of the year, he had led his subjects in 
person against the English, and displayed a degree of 
courage and valor which gained him no small consid- 
eration in the eyes of his warriors. Sir Francis "Wyatt 
had advanced into the territory of the Pamunkeys at 
the head of a picked corps, who were inured to fa- 
tigue, familiar with the localities, and acquainted with 
Indian warfare. Against this force, Itopatin opposed 
himself. He seems to have adopted an organized 
plan of battle, and to have met his enemy in regular 
and open array. Eight hundred Pamunkeys formed 
his main body. His wings — of whose numerical 
force we have no information — were composed of 
warriors from other tribes. The result of the battle 
— of its incidents we are ignorant — was the discom- 
fiture of the Indians, who left behind them " a num- 
ber" of their own dead, and several wounded Eng- 
lishmen. Yet the conflict was by no means decisive, 



319 



and probably it displayed a strength and spirit on the 
part of the Indians which the English did not wish 
further to provoke. The latter had aimed to proceed 
four miles beyond the field of conflict, where was the 
chief depot of the Indians, and where, after the en- 
gagement, they had rallied. But Sir Francis, for 
some reason, — possibly " the want of ammunition," 
— saw fit to retire. Of Itopatin — or Opitchapan, as 
he is usually called — we have no further account. 

Still hostilities were not suspended. The colonists 
had laid waste by fire a belt of land along their fron- 
tier settlements ; thus destroying the luxuriant grass, 
the thick undergrowth, and the gigantic trees, under 
cover of which the Indians had been wont to creep 
unseen, and thence, like the tiger, to pounce upon 
their prey. But even this precaution had availed 
little. The savage, burning with mortal hatred, would 
patiently bear hunger, and watching, and exposure, 
and any discomfort, to secure from the plantations a 
single scalp. Many sudden irruptions had been made 
upon the settlements in days when the inhabitants 
were off their guard, or in nights when darkness and 
rushing rain combined to conceal approach. In this 
fitful and stealthy way the savages had conducted their 
warfare, plundering the plantations of corn and cattle, 
butchering men, taking captive women and children, 
and then suddenly disappearing, without a trace of 
their retreat, into the depths of the wilderness. So 
vigilant, so untiring, so stealthy was their system, that 
the English, unless in strong parties, had not dared to 
move where it was possible for an Indian to lurk. 
Not only had the enemy assailed the more exposed 
plantations, but had taken scalps and captives and 
plunder, had ravaged cornfields and burned houses, in 



320 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the more central parts of the colony. Thus matters 
had continued between the natives and the English 
until February, 1632, when the Chickahominies and 
the Pamunkeys, after a furious and destructive attack 
upon the whites, agreed upon a treaty of peace. It 
was a treaty, however, in which little confidence was 
placed. Though the plantations had steadily in- 
creased, and been pushed farther and farther into the 
wilds, still the colonists were apprehensive of attack, 
and many acts both for offence and defence had passed 
the Assembly. For the greater security of the people 
against treachery and surprise, all intercourse with the 
Indians had been peremptorily forbidden by law, ex- 
cept at particular stations upon the frontiers, and even 
there only for purposes of traffic. The thirty tribes 
composing the confederation, or empire, — " all broth- 
ers and all Powhattans," — had, step by step, been 
pushed back from the sea to the falls of the rivers, — 
from the falls to their sources. In the dark places of 
their retreat, they still brooded over their wrongs, and 
plotted revenge. 

On a gentle swell of land near the sources of the 
York or Pamunkey River was now the residence of 
the aged Opechancanough. Scattered here and there, 
over perhaps an acre of ground, were some twenty 
or thirty wigwams, of the conical shape such as were 
the usual dwellings of the common people. Inter- 
spersed among these were a few gigantic trees covered 
with the fresh foliage of spring, — it was the 17th day 
of April, 1644.* Around this group of huts was an 



* The date of these events is determined by Winthrop, II. 165, and 
Hening, I. 450. 



THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 321 

area of sixty acres or more under tillage, on which 
many trees were still standing, but bald and barkless, 
and about the roots blackened by fire, or girdled with 
wounds by the hatchet. These, together with the im- 
perfect manner in which the soil was broken up, indi- 
cated that the settlement was comparatively new. A 
number of Indian women and children were engaged, 
in different spots and companies, in beating up the 
ground with crooked sticks, — a few, with English 
hoes, — in planting corn, or in weeding that which 
had already begun to grow. In the centre of the vil- 
lage, and enclosing four or five venerable oaks, were 
three large circles of palisades, ten or twelve feet in 
height, one within another, and with intermediate 
spaces of five or six feet. Within this simple fortifi- 
cation were the dwellings of the chief and his im- 
mediate attendants. These structures were of the 
better sort, — of an oblong area, their roofs forming 
an arch, and varying from sixty to a hundred feet in 
length. The largest was that of the chief himself, 
who was supposed to be now about a hundred years 
of age. It was at once his private dwelling and his 
council-hall. 

This was a day of convocation. Ranged around 
the walls was a concourse of sturdy chiefs and war- 
riors equipped for the war-path. The younger men 
were placed behind the elder, and were distinguished 
for the artificial hideousness of their appearance. One 
of the ancients had just finished a stirring address 
to the assembly, and had taken his seat. For a few 
moments a deathlike silence indicated the impression 
he had made. The young men grasped their weap- 
ons, and panted with impatience. The old men, sul- 
len and stern, bent their eyes upon the groundt 



322 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" Uttomatin has spoken well," muttered Opechan- 
canough from the couch on which he lay. " The 
hunter has half done his work when he has set his 
snares. Our snares are set. Our warriors are at their 
posts. The time has come." 

Then, raising himself from his couch, and dropping 
his mantle, he stood up, leaning upon the arms of 
two attendants ; and every warrior also rose, from 
instinctive reverence for their patriarch king. They 
waited in profound silence for his words. It was 
an impressive scene. The large and noble frame of 
Opechancanough had become bowed, emaciated, and 
shrivelled; but he stood as kingly and as stern in 
purpose as when in the vigor of his days, and the 
thin, whitened scalp-lock, which drooped to his shoul- 
der, seemed a symbol of his many changes and many 
griefs. The muscles of his face were working strong- 
ly under the influence of his emotions, and every one 
around him caught their inspiration ; but his own 
eyes were closed. After a moment's pause, he said : 
" Opechancanough would see his friends." 

The two chiefs who supported him, each gray with 
age, gently, and as if touching something holy, took 
hold of his palsied eyelids, and unveiled his sight. 
The fire of life had abated in his veins ; the nerve of 
his youth and the iron vigor of his manhood were 
gone for ever ; but from that old man's eye shot 
forth a fire and a vigor of purpose which told of 
a spirit within unrivalled by the most impetuous in 
his presence. 

"Brothers! warriors! children! listen. You go to 
revenge the wrongs and the blood of your fathers. 
Their spirits look down upon you. They will laugh 
when the blood of their murderers flows. 



323 

li Children ! listen. We are far from the hunting- 
grounds, and the good fields, and the pleasant rivers, 
and the graves, of our fathers. We left them for new 
homes, and from the new homes we are driven.* We 
are going toward the setting sun. 

" Children ! listen. The king of the pale-faces is 
beyond the great waters. He is in trouble. His 
children around his council-fires have dug up the 
hatchet. They have broken the pipe of peace. They 
fight against their father. The white men over the 
water cannot take care of their brothers here. They 
cannot send food, or warriors, or guns. And the 
white men here do not live like brothers. They 
fight.f If we fight them while they fight one an- 
other, we shall kill many ; we can kill their cattle ; 
we can root up their corn. Then those whom we do 
not kill will starve, for they can get no corn from 
their king. J Children ! the time has come. 

" Children ! listen. The English keep us from 
their houses. We cannot spread over their lands as 
we did when we revenged Nemattanow. We can- 
not strike among them all at once. We must first 
slay the nearest, and then carry the tomahawk down 
the rivers to their houses by the sea. In this way we 
must fight this time. Our warriors are all placed. 

* An allusion to the evictions of the Indians under the grants issued 
hy Harvey. " They resented the encroachments made upon them by 
his grants." Beverly, 49. 

t "They were encouraged by signs of discord among the English, 
having seen a fight in James River between a London ship for the Par- 
liament and a Bristol ship for the king." Hildreth's United States, 
I. 340. * 

t See "Perfect Description of Virginia/' (printed 1649,) in Force, 
Vol. II. 



324 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Each werowance knows where to lead his braves. 
Children ! the time has come. 

u Children ! Opechancanough goes with you. Pa- 
munkeys, Chickahominies, Paspaheys, Warrasqueakes, 
Mataponies, will follow Opechancanough. The others 
will follow their own chiefs to other places. All things 
are arranged and ready. 

" Children ! the time has come. You will avenge 
the blood of your fathers. Opechancanough will di- 
rect your fight. The spirit of Powhattan and the 
spirit of Nemattanow will see you. 

" Let the runners now be sent. 

" Children ! remember what Opechancanough has 
said. He has done." 

The venerable chief, releasing the veterans who 
held his eyelids, gathered his mantle around him, and 
sank upon his seat. 

Instead of the acclamations and frantic pantomimes 
with which such addresses were usually received, the 
only sign of approval given was a low but portentous 
murmur, so profound was the impression upon all, 
that the expedition on foot was one of no common 
moment, that the fate of their nation was at stake. 
Most of the warriors immediately retired, and sped to 
their several stations. A few, grizzled and scarred, 
lingered for a short time to press the hand of their 
aged chief, or to receive its sign of blessing as they 
knelt reverently at his feet. Opechancanough was 
soon left with only his customary attendants. 

Soon after midnight on the morning of the 18th, 
Opechancanough left his dwelling under escort of a 
small band of warriors, who were to act at different 
points as his lieutenants, and whom he had selected 



THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 325 

for their personal valor, their cool judgment, and their 
capacity for military co-operation. His infirmities of 
limb, as well as the falling of his eyelids, prevented 
him from proceeding on foot. A litter was therefore 
prepared for him, upon which his devoted followers, 
emulous of the service, transported him from place to 
place as he directed. The localities of the country 
over which he had roamed again and again for nearly 
a century * were traced so clearly upon his mind, that 
his orders were unembarrassed by the veil which over- 
hung his vision ; and that his mental capacity for war 
was unimpaired by age is evident in the plan on 
which he acted, and in the concert which he sustained 
between the distant parties of his expedition. 

The escort, with their venerable burden, threaded 
their way in silence and with perfect ease through the 
wilds. The double curtain of forest-shade and night 
was no hinderance to their certain, and even rapid 
motion. The litter was borne by four sturdy men, ex- 
cept when, in crossing the rocky bed of some stream, 
or in clambering along some rough and steep hill- 
side, a temporary addition of strength seemed neces- 



* The tradition that his birthplace was in the far Southwest — Mexico 
or its vicinity — is too vague for reliance. The same whim, or super- 
stitious fancy, which prompted the Indians to designate their dignitaries 
by assumed names — for Powhattan, Opechancanough, Pocahontas, &e. 
were only names for English ears — may have suggested the mystery 
concerning the origin of this renowned and formidable chief. That he 
was styled the brother of Powhattan did not, to be sure, necessarily im- 
ply that he was Virginian born. On this point, see JefTcrsoirs Notes. 
But his being acknowledged by Powhattan as the second in regular suc- 
cession to himself, taken in connection with the Indian law of succession 
as stated by Beverly (p. 163), seems to prove that they were "brothers 
by the same mother," notwithstanding the fact that the chiefs of the na- 
tives were sometimes made such by election. 
?9 



326 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

sary to safety. It might have been an hour, or a 
little more, before one from an unwooded position 
there could have discerned the first streak of day, 
when the patriarch chief and his attendants entered 
upon what seemed a natural opening of the forest. 
Hardly had the tramp of the party ceased, as the litter 
was placed upon the turf, when the soft tread of the 
moccason was heard by their practised ears, and one 
by one came warriors from the surrounding covert, 
until hundreds stood around their king. The star- 
light in the open space was sufficient to reveal the 
wild ferocity of their aspect ; yet even that was soft- 
ened for the moment when they bent eagerly for- 
ward to discern, as each one might be able, the 
reclining form before them. The attitude, the sup- 
pressed breathing, the hushed movement of the crowd, 
betokened the filial affection, and even religious awe, 
of every warrior. So predominant were these senti- 
ments, and so completely had they chastened the fero- 
cious expression of their features, that they seemed 
just then less like banditti, gathered for a great and 
pitiless slaughter, than like brothers who had come 
there to see a venerated father, or like worshippers 
who had met at a common altar. 

The halt was brief. Opechancanough, half raising 
himself upon his litter, made a few brief inquiries, 
and gave order for immediate and rapid march. In- 
stantly separating into twenty or thirty parties, the 
whole band departed in as many different directions ; 
the chief, with his former attendants only, pursuing a 
trail by themselves. Half an hour afterwards, they 
emerged from the woods, and again halted upon the 
skirts of a plantation. But a few minutes elapsed 



327 

when other parties arrived, and soon the chief was 
surrounded by a much larger assemblage than he had 
before met in the g]ade of the forest. A few rapid 
and nervous orders from his lips, and a few stinging 
allusions to the rapacious piracy of the white man 
and to the bitter wrongs of the Indian, were enough. 
The warriors noiselessly dispersed, and with them the 
chosen ones who had thus far been the attendants of 
their chief, — others, though burning to share in the 
work of death, content with the honor of watching by 
his side. 

The few clouds which had been drifting overhead 
were gone, and a clearer light was shed over the 
peaceful landscape. At a short distance lay the rude 
farm-house of a pioneer planter, with its cluster of 
out-buildings around it ; and, what was unusual 
except upon the frontier, two or three others could 
be faintly seen within the compass of half a mile. 
So close a neighborhood was for the purpose of 
mutual protection. 

" Children ! " said Opechancanough, and rising to 
his feet, " let me see the work of my braves." 

His eyelids were immediately held up. He turned 
his head slowly towards the east, and saw the first 
tint of morning. Then, looking steadfastly upon the 
cottages of his foes, he murmured, " Wahunsonacock ! 
Wahunsonacock ! " * 

Not ten minutes more had elapsed, when a slight 
flash was seen by the side of the nearest dwelling. 
The watchful and excited chief clasped his withered 



* The Indian and true name of Powhattan. Drake's Indian Biog- 
raphy, p. 3-17. 



328 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

hands, and exclaimed, in a tone of nervous solemnity, 
" The time has come ! " 

The blaze spread. Other lights were now seen at 
the other and more distant houses, and soon they too 
began to blaze and spread. Very soon, for the walls 
of the dwellings were very dry, the fire ran up to the 
several roofs, and their thatch, combustible as tinder, 
was in a blaze. Now for the first time there was 
noise, — a shriek ; then the dreadful war-whoop, an- 
swered from the more distant houses, and also from 
some invisible scene of slaughter eastward within the 
forest. Then came the yells and curses of mortal 
strife ; then a shout ; and there in the firelight were 
seen two forms struggling, life for life ; and then 
came another rushing forward, a white garment flut- 
tering about it, and long hair streaming in the wind, 
and it threw itself upon the two fighting ones as if it 
had been a Fury ; and the three fell and rolled to- 
gether upon the ground. There was a struggle, a 
death-scream, and then in the glare of the fire the 
tawny victor was seen astride his victims, and fran- 
tically waving aloft their dripping scalps. Like 
sounds of strife and death came also from beyond, 
but the eye of the chief could see there only the con- 
flagration ; and at the eastward, and at two or three 
points southward, the tree-tops were lighted by un- 
seen fires, whose smoke was going up to heaven, a 
testimony of the wrath of man. And now came the 
cry of swine, the bleating of sheep, the death-bellow 
of cattle, and then came — silence. 

Two, — three, — four, — half a dozen runners, one 
after another, now dashed breathless into the presence 
of the chief, reeking with blood and singed with fire. 



329 

Each stood silent and motionless until questioned ; 
received a quick, short order in reply to his message ; 
and darted away again whence he came. The morn- 
ing had now fairly broken. The eastern sky was 
flooded with light. Opechancanough, taking a last 
look of satisfaction at the smouldering ruins before 
him, reclined upon his litter again, gave directions to 
his attendants, and was carried away to superintend 
other scenes of havoc, and to keep up his communica- 
tions with his chiefs. 

Thus resolutely and with untiring industry did this 
aged warrior direct the work which he could not 
share along the tributary streams of the Pamunkey, 
laying the border settlements in ashes, and strewing 
them with corpses. To each of the bands und»r his 
immediate direction he assigned their several routes. 
He also, according to circumstances, checked or urged 
their progress, knowing all the time where each was 
in operation. He himself moved in concert with 
them, and to stations convenient for communication 
with all. Thus the work of carnage and of burning 
went on through the day, through the night, through 
the next day and the next night, the resolute chief- 
tain hardly allowing a moment's repose to himself or 
to his warriors. The frontier settlements had been 
forced and sacked, and the work had steadily pro- 
gressed, from all points, toward the interior. 

For, in the mean time, other tribes under other 
chiefs had seized tomahawk and firebrand at the 
same hour on the 18th, at distant points, and on 
other routes. From the heads of all the rivers, from 
the south side of James River, and from the north 
side of the Pamunkey or York River, different hordes 

28* 



330 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

had been hewing their way toward the centre of 
the colony, with all vigor and with unsparing exe- 
cution. 

Everywhere along these tracts were strewed the 
sad and revolting relics of a pitiless war. The corn 
in the blade was cut up. The corn in store was cast 
upon the embers of the habitations ; slaughtered cat- 
tle and sheep and swine and men and women and 
children lay around on the desolated homesteads ; 
household furniture and farming tools were scattered 
about in fragments, or burned to ashes, — in short, the 
ruin was as universal and as complete as human 
malice and swift industry could make it. In addi- 
tion, many were carried into barbarous and hopeless 
captkity, — some to linger in slavery, some to be 
hewn bit by bit under the knife, some to be slowly 
barbecued * at the stake. 

' Nowhere was the work more frightful or rapid than 
on the track of Opechancanough and the favorite 
tribes under his personal command. They consti- 
tuted the main strength of the Powhattans. They 
were the most courageous, the most fierce, the most 
implacable in their hatred of the English, and the 
most familiar with the modes of English warfare; 
and well did they sustain their reputation through 
these terrific days and nights. But their fame outran 
their havoc. Some who were attacked escaped, and 
fled on the wings of terror to the inland settlements. 
The alarm quickly spread. Every man started to 
arms and to rescue ; and on the third day the slaugh- 



* This word, says Beverly (p. 150), we derive from the Virginia In- 
dians. 



331 



terers were met and checked. Opechancanough saw 
at once that the array of the English was complete 
and resistless, that the onset of sword and firelock 
and cavalry could not be sustained.* He gave the 
order for retreat,! and vanished with his exhausted 
bands into the depths of the wilderness.^ The other 
chiefs operating in other districts were also compelled 
to retire before the superior weapons and fresh forces 
of the English. 

About five hundred colonists had perished. Of the 
number of those carried into captivity we have no 
tale. 

Every work of public enterprise — and there were 
several which Sir William Berkeley had put in oper- 
ation — was at once abandoned. Even husbandry 
was suspended, and the whole capable population 
were summoned to arms. "A chosen body, com- 
prising every twentieth man, commanded by the 
Governor in person, marched into the enemy's coun- 
try." War followed, but of its details we have no 
account. 



* " The Indian war ended first, by the valour, courage, and hot charge 
of Captain Marshall and valiant Stilwel." Desci-iption of the Province 
of New Albion, in Force, Vol. II. 

t " He directed from the litter on which he was carried the onset and 
the retreat of his warriors." Burk, II. 57. 

\ The writer of the " Perfect Description," and others following him, 
ascribe the sudden retreat of the Indians to a special and mysterious in- 
terference of Divine agency, producing a miraculous loss of courage " at 
a moment of time," — a panic like that which seized " the host of the 
Syrians " before the Avails of Samaria in the time of Elisha the prophet. 
There seems no necessity of accounting for the stay of the massacre in 
any other way than as Burk does (II. 55) : " It was absolutely neces- 
sary that the frontier should be forced before the interior could be as- 
sailed. Time was thus afforded the inland counties to arm," &c. 



332 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

The time-worn warrior of Pamvmkey was ready to 
die whenever the Great Spirit would call him ; and 
yet he scorned to die. He could meet his spirit- 
fathers on their pleasant hunting-grounds without 
shame ; for he had been a faithful Powhattan for a 
hundred years. He had bared his breast to many a 
storm ; he could bare it to more, seared and shrivelled 
as it was. It was not for him to cower like a wo- 
man ; it was not for him to weep and whine like a 
child, under the whip of sorrow. A warrior he had 
lived ; a warrior he would die. He could not wield 
the tomahawk, but he could direct the fight, in this 
mood had he retired before the mustering forces of 
the English, and betaken himself to his secluded 
home. He had done so only to save his men ; only 
that he might rally and redirect them to more equal 
conflicts. To this latter task, therefore, he girded 
himself, with the stern purpose of a hero and the dig- 
nity of a martyr. His spies and runners were busy in 
all quarters, while his warriors stood waiting his di- 
rections or went with enthusiasm to obey them ; and 
rarely was a detachment of the English abroad, but 
he sent out his ambuscades for scalps. But his rest- 
less spirit could not brook inaction. He would be 
abroad himself also, to watch and trap the marauders 
of his country, to hear their cries when struck down 
by his warriors, though he might not share the con- 
flict. Thus, while planning and directing the opera- 
tions of war, he was also carried by his men upon 
various hostile excursions. 

Upon one of these — it was, as nearly as we can 
calculate, in the latter part of May or early in June — 
he lay upon his litter, under a cool shade in the forest, 



333 

"at some distance from his usual habitation." He 
had been in motion for several days and nights ; and 
now, overcome with fatigue and the heat of noon, he 
had given himself up to a short repose. He slept. 
But it was evident from the tone of his inarticulate 
mutterings, and from the passions gleaming upon 
his features, that the old man was young again in his 
dreams, and was reacting the strifes of fourscore years 
ago. His attendants were watching around him in 
silence. Suddenly a warrior who had been reclining 
upon the ground sprang noiselessly to his feet, with a 
look of alarm, and almost at the same instant a sen- 
try, who had been stationed at a short distance, 
dashed into the circle and announced the coming 
of English. They were close at hand, he said, and 
flight was out of the question. Three or four others 
now came hurriedly in from different points, bringing 
the same report. They were surrounded, and were 
not more than a dozen. Without a word, — for they 
were of one mind, and knew it, — they stood shoulder 
to shoulder around their slumbering chief, every man 
with his arrow upon his bow. But even the slight 
noise attending their movement had roused the sleep- 
er from his dreams. He had but just uttered a word 
of inquiry, when the English soldiers — some thirty 
or forty in number — presented themselves on every 
side. Every arrow was sped at the instant, and every 
one found its mark, — but harmless against armor. 
The assailants, with only broadswords, rushed shout- 
ing and at once upon the party. One Indian had but 
just time to throw himself as a shield upon the sacred 
person of the chief, before the soldiers were upon 
them. Another, aiming a blow with his war-club, 



334 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

received a sabre-stroke upon his shoulder, and fell 
bleeding upon the litter. A few others were stunned 
and slightly wounded, but all were overpowered by 
numbers. The struggle was over almost as soon as 
begun, and every Indian but the chief was pinioned. 
It had been the purpose of the soldiers to capture, if 
possible, without the loss of life. They had succeed- 
ed. Their leader, and one of the foremost in the on- 
set, was Sir William Berkeley. He had obtained 
information — in what manner we are not told — 
where Opechancanough was. Instantly placing him- 
self at the head of a squadron of light cavalry, he had 
ridden with all speed to the spot, and, by an adroit 
approach and skilful precaution, had effected the sur- 
prise. He now addressed himself courteously and re- 
spectfully to the helpless chief, announcing that he 
should convey him to Jamestown. 

To this he made no reply, but, turning his closed 
eyes toward Sir William, asked sharply : " Are my 
children hurt ? Who fell at my feet ? " 

" Uttomatin," replied a voice from the ground. 

" Is Uttomatin hurt ? " turning his face in the direc- 
tion of the voice. 

" Uttomatin will yet show the English that he is a 
Powhattan." 

" Opechancanough ! " said Sir William Berkeley, 
" none of your men are slain. There is blood shed, 
but we are binding up their wounds." 

" Let Opechancanough see." 

The infirmities of the chief were well known to the 
English, and one of the soldiers stepped forward and 
raised his eyelids. Not a glance did the old man 
bestow upon his victors, until he had scanned the per- 



THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 335 

son of each one of his faithful warriors. Then, turn- 
ing to Sir William, he said, in the tone of a demand, 
" Let them be unbound." 

" On one condition, — they shall not attempt 
escape." 

The chief looked in the eye of the English noble- 
man with a right royal pride, and his lip curled with 
scorn. " Do the white men run away when their king 
is taken captive ? Opechancanough's children die 
with him." 

" It is enough," replied Sir William, and the pris- 
oners were loosed. 

Deprived of their weapons and surrounded by the 
soldiers, the Indians now took up the litter of their 
captive king, and proceeded to the spot where the 
horses of the party had been picketed. Opechanca- 
nough declined all conversation, and manifested a 
dignified indifference to his fate. Their progress to 
Jamestown was without incident, except that the cap- 
tives, especially their chief, naturally attracted, at 
their halting-places, such of the planters on the route 
as had chanced to hear of their approach. The ex- 
treme age of the chief inspired the people with rever- 
ence; his infirmities woke their pity; his history as 
a persevering and heroic foe excited their respect ; the 
majesty of his port, his undaunted aspect, and the 
filial devotion of his followers, commanded their ad- 
miration. Thus, w^hen the cavalcade entered James- 
town, although it was triumphal, and although the 
captives were a spectacle unto all, not a scoff grated 
upon their ears, or a jeer, or an exultant shout, from 
all the mixed populace. In the living trophies, they 
instinctively recognized, not only manly greatness and 



336 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

patriotic greatness, but fallen greatness too ; and they 
had no heart for anything but respect for its regality 
and compassion for its reverses. To this honorable 
sentiment and behavior the example of Sir William 
Berkeley contributed not a little. He appreciated the 
character of the captive warrior, and the filial devoted- 
ness of his attendants, and consequently demeaned 
himself towards them with all deference. They were 
his prisoners, to be sure, and of course in confinement 
and under guard ; but he granted them every indul- 
gence in his power. None of his attendants were 
separated from the chief. Their touching anxiety for 
his comfort, and to serve him in their persons, Sir 
William would not interfere with. So Opechanca- 
nough in his prison-house had his court about him. 

He now felt that his last struggle was over ; that 
his allotted work as a counsellor, as a warrior, as a 
king and father to his people, was done. He had 
nothing more before him but to die like a warrior and 
a king. Yes, one thing more, he thought, and then — 
death. His old flesh must feel the knife, and crisp 
before the fire, and his old bones be crushed by the 
executioner, before his spirit might join the spirits of 
his fathers. The ingenuity of the white man would 
invent unheard-of tortures for his most inveterate and 
successful enemy. Upon all this Opechancanough 
calculated ; and so did his followers, for him, for them- 
selves. But his demeanor was that of a captive who 
felt himself a king in every inch, — unbending, haughty, 
reserved, unsolicitous about his fate. But whenever 
he spake of it, which was seldom, it was only to ex- 
press contempt for the torture-skill of the pale-face, 
and to defy his power. 



THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 337 

But had not Opechancanough known the English 
thirty-five years ? and did he not know that English- 
men did not kill then war-captives by torture ? 

Torture ! was there no fashion of torture among 
Englishmen ? Were there no " thumb-screws " in 
Christian England then ? no " boots " ? no " scaven- 
ger's daughters " ? no stakes and fagots ? no disem- 
bowellings ? no hanging by the neck, " but not until 
dead " ? no cutting-down of the sufferer while the 
pulse yet beat, that he might feel the knife which 
laid his vitals bare, and the hand which tore out his 
heart to toss it on burning coals ? "Were there no such 
things in glorious England then ? none long after ? 

To be sure there were ! But Opechancanough did 
not know them. 

Perhaps not. But he knew some other things. 
He knew what things the English did to each other 
in Virginia. He knew what they had done to prison- 
ers among themselves. He knew that they had 
thrust irons through their tongues ; that they had 
broken live men's bones upon the wheel ; that they 
had chained men to trees, and left them there to starve 
alone in the forest ; that some men they had burned ;* 
that, at least, they did cut off the hands of Indian 
prisoners.! Could Opechancanough expect better 
execution for himself, their bloody enemy for so many 
years, than they had given to their own brethren? 
If they had done such things in the green tree, what 
would they do in the dry ? 

* Eor these statements, I must refer the reader again to the papers 
solemnly drawn, signed, and sent to England by the Governor, Council, 
and Burgesses in 1624, and recorded by Stith. 

t Drake's Biography of the Indians, p. 355. 
29 



338 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

But however he may have reasoned, and on what- 
ever grounds he may have formed his expectations, 
one thing is certain, — he expected death by excruci- 
ating torture, but he scorned it 

Sir William was about to sail for England, and the 
fate to which he had doomed his captive was — a 
voyage. It would be such an honor to his name to 
present to his sovereign the champion-warrior of the 
Indians, and their king ! Besides, what confusion to 
those in England who libelled Virginia as a pestilen- 
tial country, to see one of the inhabitants who had 
shaken hands with an hundred years ! 

But this was not to be. The chief and his men 
were considerately permitted to enjoy the fresh air and 
the warm sun, without which they would soon have 
pined and died. While enjoying this privilege one day, 
— it was a fortnight after his capture, — the aged king 
was suddenly fired upon by one of his guards, in a fit 
of passion. The ball lodged in his back, inflicting a 
mortal wound. The Indians were frantic with rage. 
Unarmed as they were, they flew like panthers at tho 
ruffian soldier, and would have torn him to shreds but 
for the instant protection of his comrades. The roar 
of savage frenzy was bootless ; and they turned, utter- 
ing wild cries of lament, to retire with their wounded 
patriarch to their apartment. Here they tried their 
rude skill to stanch the blood, and to revive his con- 
sciousness. The stern men, from whom no tortures 
could have wrung a sign of suffering, dropped tears 
and groaned over Opechancanough. 

Sir William Berkeley was greatly incensed at the 
outrage, and did all in his power to prevent a fatal 
result. Surgical aid and proper attendance were pro- 



339 

vided for the chief, but with no seeming benefit. It 
soon became evident that he must die. He lingered, 
however, for several days. He gave no utterance of 
suffering, and no sign of dejection. He spake but 
few words, and those chiefly to his followers ; but in 
many ways he discovered to the last an unbroken 
pride, a stoical indifference to his fate, and a lofty 
contempt for every Englishman who intruded upon 
his presence. He betrayed none of the milder feelings 
of human nature, except by the silent but eloquent 
affection with which he received the services of his 
countrymen. Now and then it was displayed in the 
satisfaction with which he would gaze upon his at- 
tendants for a few moments, and in the look of fare- 
well with which he would then order his eyelids to 
be dropped. His children, as he always called them, 
were about him night and day. It would have 
moved the hardest heart to witness the breathless anx- 
iety with which they bent over his couch ; the big 
tears which sometimes dropped from their eyes, in 
spite of their pride ; the womanly tenderness with 
which they relieved his posture, or ministered to his 
burning thirst ; the gentle tones in which they asked 
his wants ; the noiseless tread with which they 
moved ; the tremulous whispers in which they spake ; 
and the sullen anguish with which they sometimes 
sank writhing on the floor. " The strong men bowed 
themselves." 

" Uttomatin ! " whispered the dying patriarch, "why 
are my children so noisy ? Let them be silent." 

" They are the pale-faces, my father. They come 
to see." 

A frown clouded the brow of Opechancanough. 
" Uttomatin ! let me see." 



340 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

As his eyes were opened, he gave a look at the in- 
truders upon his privacy, beneath which some of them 
shrank, — brutal as they were. 

" Raise me, Uttomatin ! " 

The warrior did so, supporting the dying man 
against his breast. 

" Let the chief of the white men be called. He 
must come instantly. Opechancanough demands it." 

When Sir William shortly after appeared, the chief 
with great effort attained to a full and strong voice, 
and said, with a look of right royal scorn : " Shame, — 
shame to the pale-face chief, who makes a gazing- 
stock of his captive on a dying bed ! Had it been my 
fortune to have taken Sir William Berkeley prisoner, 
I would have given him honor, such as a great chief 
should have, at the stake, and in the presence of my 
braves. But I would not meanly have kept him for a 
show. A dog has a right to peace and privacy when 
the hand of the Great Spirit is upon him." * 

Soon after, the scene closed. Opechancanough had 
fulfilled his course. His spirit had returned unto God 
who gave it. 

* I have varied the traditionary words of Opechancanough only so far 
as to give what I believe to have been his real meaning. 

The historian who retorts that he " made a show " of Captain Smith, 
should remember that Opechancanough made no complaint that he, 
like Captain Smith, was made a show on his progress to the head-quar- 
ters of his captors ; and that there is a heaven-wide difference between 
the exhibition of a military captive in a triumphal procession, and the 
admission of a gaping rabble to the private apartment of a dying man. 
Opechancanough was consistent with himself, with his own behavior, 
with his own high sense of honor. His rebuke was as sound as caustic ; 
and, had the supposition on which it was made — that Sir William was 
privy to the transaction — been true, it would have been infamously 
deserved. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 

In the same month in which Opechanca- 
nough died, Sir William Berkeley sailed for 
England, disappointed of his trophy. He returned, 
however, and resumed the duties of his office in June 
of the next year. 

In October, 1646, a treaty of peace was effected 
with Necotowance, the successor of Opechancanough. 
He acknowledged himself a tributary of the king of 
England, and ceded to the English all the country be- 
tween the York and James rivers. 

In March, 1648, he came in person to Jamestown, 
having in his train five subordinate chiefs, and bring- 
ing his annual tribute to King Charles. Upon this 
occasion he made " a long oration " to Sir William 
Berkeley, in which he protested that "the sun and 
moon should first lose their glorious lights and shin- 
ing, before he or his people should evermore hereafter 
wrong the English in any kind, but they would ever 
hold love and friendship together." 

A large measure of internal thrift was now the lot 
of the colony. The Indians seemed thoroughly indis- 
posed to cope with their powerful invaders, retired 
beyond the neighborhood of their settlements, and 
were forbidden by Necotowance, on pain of death, 
to appear within the English limits, unless sent by 

29* 



342 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

him as messengers. The colonists now numbered 
fifteen thousand,* and " of negroes three hundred 
good servants." They were visited usually by about 
thirty trading-vessels in a year, and in the preceding 
December there lay in their waters at one time twelve 
ships from England, twelve from Holland, and seven 
from New England. There were in the colony twenty 
thousand neat cattle, two hundred horses and mares, 
fifty asses, three thousand sheep, five thousand goats, 
and innumerable swine and poultry ; hundreds of acres 
of wheat, " plenty of barley, excellent malt, and six 
publike Brew-houses " ; indigo, hemp, and flax ; four 
wind-mills, five water-mills, many horse-mills, but no 
saw-mills ; twenty churches, and ministers to each 
whose livings were worth at least one hundred pounds 
per annum. The Governor, from half a bushel of 
rice, had raised fifteen, which he was intending to 
sow at the next season. He had fifteen hundred 
fruit-trees, besides apricots, peaches, quinces, &c. 
Captain Brocas had planted a vineyard, and " made 
most excellent wine." Richard Bennet, from an or- 
chard of his own planting, " had made twenty Butts 
of excellent cider." For the last three or four years, 
Richard Kinsman had made forty or fifty butts of 
perry. But " worthy Captaine Matthews, an old 
Planter of above thirty years standing," seems to have 
been the prince of planters, — " hath a fine house, 
sowes yeerly store of Hemp and Flax, and causes it 
to be spun ; keeps weavers, and hath a Tan House ; 
causes leather to be dressed ; hath eight shoemakers 

* " Perfect Description," p. 3. Bancroft states the number at twenty- 
thousand. Grahame gives twenty thousand as the number in 1642! 
Vol. I. p. 96. 



VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 343 

employed in their trade ; hath forty negroe servants," 
more than one eighth of all in Virginia ; " brings 
them up to trades in his house ; yeerly sows abun- 
dance of wheat, barley, &c. ; hath abundance of kine, 
a brave dairy, swine great store, and Poltery ; keeps 
a good house, lives bravely, and a true lover of Vir- 
ginia ; he is worthy of much honor." 

There was also at this time " a Free-schoole with 
two hundred acres of land, a fine house upon it, forty 
milch kine." It was established " by Mr. Benjamin 
Symes, worthy to be chronicled." * 

The civil war in England, which had been 
raging since 1642, was closed by the execution 
of the king on the 30th of January, 1649. Virginia 
had no share in the strife. Her intercourse with Eng- 
land had, indeed, been much interrupted, and her 
trade hindered ; still, as we have seen, her domestic 
condition was prosperous. The planters pursued their 
quiet labors without interruption, and waited with 
anxiety for the issue of the struggle in the mother 
country. But when, at length, the news arrived that 
the king was beheaded, — that British royalty was 
overthrown, — the Virginians did not acknowledge 
" The Commonwealth." Their Assembly met in Oc- 
tober, and in their first act "expressed the profoundest 
veneration for the late king ; denounced all aspersions 
upon his memory as treasonable ; declared it treason 
to doubt the right of Prince Charles to succeed to the 
crown, or to propose a change of government in the 
colony, or to doubt the authority of the Governor or 
government." 

* Perfect Description of Virginia. 



344 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

If this attachment to royalty seem inconsistent with 
the sturdy principles of self-government which Vir- 
ginia had so long cherished, it should be remembered 
that hitherto — owing, perhaps, to the embarrass- 
ments of the late monarch — her liberties had been 
untouched. Practically, she had been independent. 
Under the shadow of the throne, she had been un- 
molested, and had flourished. Why, then, should 
she repudiate a political relationship hitherto little 
more than nominal, and, for aught she had experi- 
enced, salutary ? Why, especially, should she capri- 
ciously transfer allegiance from the venerable crown, 
which generations of her ancestors had honored, to 
a usurping power which had sprung up in a night 
and might perish in a day ? Above all, why should 
she, like a fickle maiden, welcome a new lord, who, 
where he now had sway, spurned the Church in whose 
arms she had been reared, — who overturned her al- 
tars and drave out her priesthood ? Cromwell and the 
Commonwealth were for Puritanism ; the Crown and 
Virginia were for Episcopacy. Such considerations 
may account for Virginia " being whol for monarchy." 

The loyal spirit of the colony was well known in 
England. Berkeley, " the honest Governor, (for no 

man meant better,) writ to the king," Charles 

II., "almost inviting him thither," and had received 
a new commission from the royal hand. Virginia 
was a house of refuge to the despairing Cava- 
liers ; many persons of good condition, and " good 
officers in the war," "nobility, clergy, and gentry," 
" transported themselves thither, with all the estate 
they had been able to preserve." They were wel- 
comed by the people ; and Sir William Berkeley 



VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 345 

" showed great respect to all the royal party who 
made that colony their refuge. His house and purse 
were open to all that were so qualify'd." Thus the 
element of loyalty was largely increased, both in 
measure and in fervor ; for the harrowing tales of 
the refugees carried captive the sympathies of those 
who heard them. 

The Parliament, in October, 1650, took 
measures to reduce the several colonies of 
England to the authority of the Commonwealth. 
A fleet under Sir George Ayscue was despatched 
for this purpose to Barbadoes, Bermuda, and An- 
tigua. 

In September, 1651, Commissioners* were 
appointed " to use their best endeavors to 
reduce all the plantations within the Bay of the 
Chesepick to their due obedience." They embarked 
in the " Guinea Frigate," one of " two or three ships" 
under the " command and conduct of Captain Robert 
Dennis." They were instructed " to assure pardon 
and indemnity to all the Inhabitants of the said Plan- 
tations that shall submit unto the present Govern- 
ment. And in case they shal not submit by fair 
wayes and meanes, you are to use all acts of hos- 
tility that lies in your power to enforce them." f 

* " Captain Robert Dennis, Mr. Richard Bennet, Mr. Thomas Steg, 
and Captain William Clairborn." 

t Clarendon, 788. Also, "Duplicate Instructions" "in the name 
and by order of the Council of State appointed by authority of Parlia- 
ment," signed " John Bradshaw, President." The paper is in the tract 
entitled " Virginia and Maryland," pp. 18-20, in Force, Vol. II. From 
these " Instructions " it would seem that there were only two ships sent 
to Virginia, — the " John " and the " Guinny Friggot " ; but as they first 
joined Ayscue (so says Hildreth) in the West Indies, it is possible that 



346 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

In March, 1652, Edmund Curtis, with his 
1652 

colleagues, Bennet and Clairborne, arrived at 

Jamestown, and summoned the colony to surrender. 
Their ships were "armed and manned," having on 
board a regiment of seven hundred and fifty men. 
Berkeley had received notice of their coming, and 
assumed a posture of resistance ; whether with the 
intent to repel the vessels by force of arms, or only 
by a show of such intent to obtain honorable terms, 
does not appear. 

There were several armed Dutch ships, merchant- 
men, then lying in the river at Jamestown. By an 
ordinance of Parliament, their presence there rendered 



they appeared in the Chesapeake with such additional force as properly 
to be called " a squadron." 

The Instructions are so explicit in requiring that Dennis should al- 
ways join in the official acts of his associates, that the words " whereof 
Captain Eobert Dennis to be one " make a perpetual jingle through 
the entire instrument. " Edmund Curtis, commander of the Guinny 
Frigot," was empowered to act with the others as Commissioner, "in 
case of mortality, or absence of Captain Eobert Dennis." Beverly and 
Campbell state that Dennis was with the Commissioners at Jamestown ; 
but, as Hildreth (I. 356) states that he and Steg "suffered shipwreck on 
their passage " thither, and as only the names of Curtis, Clairborne, and 
Bennett — notwithstanding the strict orders of the Council of State — 
were appended to the papers subscribed at Jamestown, it is right to sup- 
pose that Dennis did not arrive there. 

It was doubtless from policy that "two of the Commissioners were 
taken from among the planters themselves." Clairborne and Bennett, 
both apparently in England when the Instructions were drawn, had been 
banished from Virginia by the Governor and Council (Campbell, 68), 
and were bitter in their feelings toward the colonial government, — fit 
agents for the Commonwealth. Besides, Bennett at least was a Round- 
head. In this view, we cannot say much about the " true magnanimity" 
which suggested their appointment. See Bancroft, I. 222. 

The ships had on board a hundred and fifty Scotch prisoners of war, 
sent to Virginia to be sold as servants. Hildreth, I. 356. 



VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 347 

them liable to seizure and confiscation. Self-interest, 
therefore, prompted them to co-operate with the Gov- 
ernor. They were promptly brought broadside-to to 
the ships of the Commonwealth, and their decks were 
efficiently reinforced by colonists. Several pieces of 
ordnance supported them from the shore, the heights 
of which were thronged with experienced soldiers. 
Receiving at once a refusal of their summons, and 
seeing these formidable preparations, the Commis- 
sioners stood aloof. Communications, under flags of 
truce, were opened by them with the colonial authori- 
ties, and under the shadow of these flags not only 
was the business of state conducted, but a very free, 
and even fraternal, intercourse was sustained between 
the Parliament forces and the people on shore. 

But there was another potent agency also at work 
for a peaceful accommodation. The " John " and 
the " Guinny Frigot " had valuable property on 
board belonging to two members of the Colonial 
Council. The Commissioners whispered this in the 
ears of the owners, who saw at once that they would 
be richer or poorer, as they should promote or hinder 
the design of Parliament. Thus Mammon, alio ays a 
great politician and diplomatist, had a voice in the 
deliberations of the Council. His sly pleadings raised 
a division there ; and although in this instance they 
would not have prevailed alone, yet they first, and 
then the grave argument that resistance would prove 
bloodshed in vain, led to honorable terms of capitu- 
lation. These terms were dictated by the General 
Assembly themselves, and were sent to Curtis " ac- 
companied by a solemn declaration that, unless they 
were acceded to in the most absolute and literal 



348 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

sense, without alteration or qualification, the colo- 
nists were ready to suffer the last extremities rather 
than submit." * They were " acceded to." 

The colony recognized the authority of the Eng- 
lish Commonwealth, and received guaranties in re- 
turn. It was stipulated, first of all, " that this sub- 
mission be acknowledged a voluntary act ; not 
forced nor constrained by a conquest upon the coun- 
try, and that they shall have and enjoy such freedoms 
and privileges as belong to the free-born people of 
England." They were then assured of full indem- 
nity ; of the right of Assemblies as formerly ; of free 
trade as the people of England do enjoy ; of freedom 
from all taxes except by consent of the Assembly; 
of the security of land grants ; and of the use of the 
Book of Common Prayer for one year.f The safety 
of the Dutch allies and the Cavaliers was also pro- 
vided for.t 

By other and separate articles of agreement be- 
tween the Commissioners and the Council, suitable 
and generous provision was made to insure the Gov- 
ernor and Council from harm or annoyance in their 
persons and estates, for one year, and within the 
bounds of Virginia. 

Such, in substance, were the terms on which Vir- 
ginia acknowledged the authority of the English 
Commonwealth ; terms by which all her former privi- 



* Burk, II. 85. 

t Notwithstanding these express words in the Instructions : " You 
shall cause to he received and published the Acts [of Parliament] for 
abolishing the Book of Common Prayer." 

X By Articles X. and XIV., and particularly by Article IX. in the 
agreement with the Council. See Burk, II. 87, 89, 90. 



VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 349 

leges were secured, and by which her civil relation to 
England — only it was England under her new gov- 
ernment — continued unchanged.* 

The commissions of the Governor and Council 
were of course void, and "the Commissioners, with 
the advice of the Assembly, administered the govern- 
ment according to former precedents," until regular 
appointments of Governor and Council should be 
made by the Council of State in England. 

* " There no sooner appeared two or three ships from the Parliament, 
than all thoughts of resistance were laid aside." Clarendon, p. 788. 
" Clarendon states the matter rightly. Beverly wrote in the next cen- 
tury, and his account ..... is in itself improbable. How could Dutch 

merchantmen have awaited an Eriglish squadron 1 Dutch ships 

would at once have been seized as prizes." Bancroft, I. 223, note. 

There are two questions respecting this transaction. 1. Was there, 
or was there not, any show of armed resistance % 2. Were, or were not, 
Dutch merchantmen trading with the colony at the time ? 

Whatever " contemporary writers," or others, may be cited to sustain 
a negative answer to these questions, I humbly conceive that none are 
of authority so reliable as the very Articles of Capitulation, and the very 
Act of Indemnity, signed by the Commissioners then and there. These 
are now before me, in Burk, II. 85 - 90. 

On the first question. " The act of indemnitie made att the surrender 
of the countrey " has these words in its preamble : " Finding force raised 
by the Governour and countrey to make opposition against the said 
fleete, whereby assured danger appearinge of the ruine and destruction 
of the plantation, for prevention whereof the burgesses of all the several 
plantations being called to advise and assist therein, uppon long and 
serious debate, and in sad contemplation of the great miseries and cer- 
taine destruction which were so neerely hovering over the whole coun- 
trey," &c. We find here evidence, to us conclusive, of a show of resist- 
ance, — of very serious resistance, — of a resisting attitude of sufficient 
duration to admit of " long and serious debate." 

On the second question. To say nothing of the statements of Gra- 
hame, Hildreth, Campbell, and Beverly, and without insisting upon the 
fact that Burk, when he says " several Dutch ships were lying off James- 
town," appeals to "Ancient Records," I will give the "Fourteenthly" 
of the articles agreed upon between the Commissioners and the Grand 
SO 



350 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

On the 30th of April, the Commissioners, jointly 
with the House of Burgesses, organized a provisional 
government " for a year, or until the pleasure of the 
Council of State [in England] should be known." 
Their executive officers were Richard Bennett, Gov- 
ernor, William Clairborne, Secretary, and a Council, 
whom they invested with only " such powers and 
authorities, and to act from time to time as by the 

Assembly : " That all goods alreadie brought hither by the Dutch and 
others which are now on shoar shall be free from surprizall." The Dutch 
merchantmen had put their goods on shore for safety; perhaps purposely, 
that they might, unsuspected by the Commissioners, be included in this 
very article of agreement. 

These copies of original documents — we cannot suppose them to be 
forgeries — are of paramount authority, and hardly justify the opinion 
that " the account of Beverly " — followed, too, by that of Burk, on the 
testimony of records — " is in itself improbable." Beverly, to be sure, 
"wrote in the next century"; but the Commissioners, on the 12th of 
March, 1652. 

Dutch merchantmen, knowing well their exposure to seizure by the 
ships of Parliament, "were careful to guard against the worst, by 
mounting cannon, and by a sufficient supply of small arms and am- 
munition." (Burk, II. 82.) 

But would the colonists engage in a trade which the laws of England 
declared, and treated, as contraband 1 They did. Even in the next 
year, they not only claimed the right of free trade, but they even found- 
ed that right both on the Articles of Capitulation and on the Parliament's 
previous Act of Navigation itself, however sophistical their reasoning 
from such premises may have been. But more. They were so strenu- 
ous, sensitive, and jealous on this subject, that one Abraham Read was 
arraigned and tried for saying " that no foreigners ought to have trade 
in Virginia, which is contrary to an Act of Parliament, and the articles 
grajited upon the surrender of the colony." The colonists certainly 
acted on the opinion that they had, and had had, the right to trade with 
foreigners. Burk, II. 96. 

The truth concerning this memorable transaction is of importance, as 
showing the chivalry of the Virginians, and their determination to sub- 
mit to no imposition, to no dishonor, and to alienate none of their cher- 
ished rights as freemen. 



VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 351 

Grand Assembly shall be appointed and granted to 
their several places respectively for the time afore- 
said." It was also declared, that all the officers of 
the colony should be appointed by the Burgesses. 

" It had been usual for the Governor and Council 
to sit in the Assembly ; the expediency of the meas- 
ure was questioned, and a temporary compromise en- 
sued; they retained their former right, but were re- 
quired to take the oath which was administered to the 
Burgesses," which was, " to act with the best of your 
judgment and advice for the public good, not min- 
gling with it any particular of private interest." 

And although the Assembly of 1654 were in- 
duced, for some reason, to restrict the right of 
suffrage — hitherto conceded to all tax-payers * — to 
those who had a certain qualification in real or per- 
sonal estate, yet in 1656, by an act of repeal, 
they replaced the right on its former demo- 
cratic basis, because "it is something hard and un- 
agreeable to reason that any person shall pay equal 
taxes and yet have no vote in elections." f 

In 1658, the Assembly created other safe- 
guards to their liberties. On the 13th of March, L 
they "themselves " elected as Governor the man " who 
kept a good house, lived bravely, and was a true lover 



* " The payment of taxes was almost the sole qualification." — Burk, 
I. 303, note. "Every titheable or taxable inhabitant was an essential 
part of the sovereignty, and voted for members of the Assembly." — Ibid. 
314. 

t Burk, II. 1 08 ; Campbell, 72. This was done under Edward Digges 
as Governor, who had been elected the year before, 1655, "by the As- 
sembly itself" — Bancroft, I. 226, — i. e., without the Commissioners of 
Parliament, who were elsewhere occupied. 



352 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

of Virginia" ; and immediately saw fit to rescind the 
" temporary compromise " of 1652 ; by which act they 
denied the Governor and Council the right of sitting 
with the Burgesses, — thus constituting themselves a 
separate and independent department of the Legisla- 
tive. This the "worthy Captaine Matthews" re- 
sented. He therefore issued a message, on the 1st of 
April, declaring the Assembly dissolved. The Bur- 
gesses denied his right to do so, and requested him to 
retract ; and, in secret session, bound themselves by 
oath not to submit to an act so arbitrary. The 
Governor yielded, revoking the order of dissolution, 
but said that he should refer to Cromwell the question 
of his disputed right. The Assembly, jealous lest one 
such reference should prove a precedent by which their 
legislative proceedings in future should become en- 
tangled and complicated, and their liberties abridged, 
immediately and solemnly drew up and passed a dec- 
laration, that they were an independent body ; that 
no power in Virginia but their own could dissolve 
them ; that, as representatives of the people, they 
were the sovereign power; and that they who, as 
such, had the power to make, had also the power to 
unmake. To illustrate their doctrine, they imme- 
diately deposed the Governor and Council. But to 
show that they did so from regard to a principle, and 
not from personal pique, they immediately re-elected 
him, and offered to invest him " with all the just rights 
and privileges belonging to the Governour and Cap- 
taine Generall of Virginia," on condition of his tak- 
ing a new oath, prescribed by them, in which he 
should acknowledge the supremacy of the Assembly. 
To this he consented, thus avowedly holding his office 



VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 353 

under them.* The Burgesses also elected a new 
Council. 

Thus rigidly did Virginia adhere to the true doc- 
trines of free government, and thus boldly did she 
proclaim them ; at different times, from 1652 to 1658, 
limiting the powers of the Executive, declaring that 
the people, by their representatives, should be elect- 
ors of all officers, that taxation gives suffrage, that the 
popular branch of the Legislature should be a dis- 
tinct body, that it existed by the act of the people 
and not by executive sufferance, and that magistrates 
are not the people's masters, but their servants. In 
other words, the Virginians proclaimed and expounded 
the grand democratic doctrine, that The Sovereign of 
the State is The People. 

In March, 1659, the decease of Oliver Crom- 
well, which had occurred on the 3d of the pre- 
ceding September, was officially announced to the 
Assembly of Virginia, who immediately passed a 
resolution recognizing Richard Cromwell as his fa- 
ther's successor.f 

Immediately upon the recognition of the Eng- 
lish Commonwealth by the Virginia Assembly 
in 1652, Sir William Berkeley had quietly retired to 
his plantation at Greenspring, where he had continued 
unmolested, happy in the respect and affection of the 
people. His hospitable mansion had open doors for 
all the royalists who had fled from the persecutions of 
the Commonwealth. Arrangements had been made 
between the Commissioners and the Council "that 

* Bancroft, I. 226, 227 ; Campbell, 72. But more clearly expressed 
in Lippincott's Cabinet History, Virginia, pp. 162, 163. 
t Campbell, 72. 

30* 



354 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the Governor and Council shall have their passes to 
go away from hence in any ship within a year." But 
Sir William's departure had been prevented, and he 
was therefore liable to arrest. To prevent this, the 
Assembly, in 1653, had passed a special act permit- 
ting him to remain eight months longer. And in 
1656 his continued residence had been again sanc- 
tioned by an act of Assembly. Thus, under one pre- 
text and another, his residence in Virginia appears to 
have been uninterrupted. 

On the 226. of April, 1659, Richard Cromwell's 
power came to an end, and soon after in that year he 
resigned his office. Governor Matthews had deceased 
when the Virginia Assembly next met, on the 13th of 
March, 1660. They immediately passed an act, de- 
claring that, as there was " noe resident absolute and 
generall confessed power in England," therefore the 
supreme government of the colony should vest in the 
Assembly. Their next act was the election of Sir 
"William Berkeley as Governor, restricting him from 
dissolving the Assembly without their consent. When 
the office was offered to him, he said in reply : " I doe 
therefore, in the presence of God and you, make this 
safe protestation for us all, that if any supreame set- 
tled power appeares, I will immediately lay down my 
commission, but will live most submissively obedient 
to any power God shall set over me, as the experience 
of eight years have shewed I have done." There was 
no recognition of Charles II. in any of the acts of this 
Assembly ; nor was there in an official letter of the 
Governor dated the 20th of August next, nearly three 
months after Charles II. had ascended the throne, 
though before the event was known in Virginia.* 

* Campbell, 73, 74, 78. 



VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 355 

In March, 1661, Berkeley received a new 
royal commission as Governor, dated July 31st, 
1660. 

Thus quietly did Virginia pass from the Crown to 
the Commonwealth, and again from the Common- 
wealth to the Crown ; for the Assembly of this year 
— consisting, however, mainly of new members, and 
probably the new were royalists — sent a loyal ad- 
dress to the king. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

FRONTIER LITE. 

For fourteen successive years Virginia had 
been governed by Sir William Berkeley in the 
name of King Charles II. During this time the pop- 
ulation had greatly increased ; and, to a superficial 
observer, the colony had every sign of prosperity and 
content. For the most part, the administration of the 
Governor had been unexceptionable, and had been 
rewarded by the esteem and affection of the people at 
large. He had been with them thirty-five years, nearly 
all of which time he had been their chief magis- 
trate, distinguished alike for his public spirit, his high 
principle, his amiable manners, and his generosity. 
He had devoted the strength of his days, and a large 
portion of his private estate, to promote the interests 
of the colony. In addition to his salary of <£ 1,000 
allowed by the Crown, the Assembly, in 1767, had 
voted him X200 per annum, and for life, as some 
compensation for his losses under the Common- 
wealth. 

In 1671, according to his statement made to the 
Lords of the Commissioners of Colonies, the people 
of Virginia numbered forty thousand, of which two 
thousand were negro slaves, and six thousand white 
indented servants. They could muster for military 
service eight thousand cavalry ; had two forts on the 



FRONTIER LIFE. 357 

James River, and one on each of the rivers Rappa- 
hannock, York, and Potomac. They had thirty can- 
non ; and received into their ample waters eighty ves- 
sels yearly from England and Ireland, which came for 
tobacco, besides a few small vessels from New Eng- 
land. 

In compliance with instructions from the king, an 
attempt had been made to establish towns as ports of 
entry ; and in 1662 seventeen new houses had been 
added to the hitherto insignificant village of James- 
town. Of these, one was built by the Governor him- 
self ; a few, by members of the Council ; others, by 
planters and traders, and at the expense of the counties.* 
For a while, the place had been the scene of consider- 
able bustle. But this impulse, being from constrained 
and artificial means, and contrary to the genius of the 
people and the natural currents of trade, was but tem- 
porary ; and Jamestown, for a long time, was but a 
cluster of thirty-two brick houses, most of which had 
been converted into taverns and hucksters' shops. 
Until 1664, the Quarter Courts, and even the Assem- 
bly, had met in taverns. But at that time it was re- 
solved to purchase a house for the use of the courts, 
and to build a State-House for the Assembly. 

But Jamestown was no specimen of Virginia. The 
thousands of her people were scattered thinly all 
along upon the banks of her noble rivers and her beau- 
tiful creeks. The planter seated himself, wherever he 
could effect a title, upon the rich bottom-lands, but 

* The settled territory of Virginia had been divided, in 1634, into 
eight shires or counties; in 1642, three had been added; in 1652, four; 
in 1653, one. In 1666, there were nineteen ; in 1670, there were twenty. 
Burk, II. 43, 68, 95, 140 ; Campbell, 79. 



358 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

lately the homes and the gardens of the banished na- 
tives, and devoted himself, in his romantic seclusion, 
to his family and his crops. The Virginia plantation 
usually extended back from the river's shore about an 
English mile; and along the shore a half-mile, or 
one, two, three miles, and sometimes more. Thus 
plantations of a thousand or two thousand acres, and 
even more, were not uncommon ; for the Virginian 
had a passion for real estate, and the bounty of fifty 
acres to the transporter for every resident whom any 
one should transport from England, rendered the ac- 
quisition comparatively easy to settlers who could pay 
the trifling passage-money of servants. Thus situ- 
ated, the planters were necessarily scattered, seldom 
meeting except upon public occasions, and caring for 
little else than the visit of the trading-ship at their 
doors, and a fair exchange for their tobacco. It was 
very natural, in a country watered by rivers some of 
which were navigable for a hundred miles, that its 
produce should be sought by the merchant, rather than 
that the producer should transport it to stated and 
distant marts in the colony. The ship which entered 
the Chesapeake for tobacco must be laden for traffic. 
She must ascend the rivers. She must pass along 
from plantation to plantation, bartering her miscella- 
neous cargo for the staple of the country. Thus the 
skipper on the James or the Potomac, " carrying all 
sorts of truck, could at the best drive, in the way of 
trade, only a sort of Scotch peddling" ; while the plant- 
er, from his low-roofed but commodious dwelling, 
surrounded by " his flocks grazing, whisking, and 
skipping in his sight," looked out from his door-way 
or his " shuttered " window upon the " delightfull " 



FRONTIER LIFL. 359 

river before him, and only waited for the coming of the 
supercargo, whom he welcomed to his home, his table, 
his pipe, and his storehouse. It is easy to perceive, 
therefore, why Virginia had no towns, and why all 
the instructions of the king, and all the orders of the 
Council, and all the bounties offered by the Assembly, 
could not make it otherwise. 

But there were hinderances to the general ease and 
content. Notwithstanding his many acres, his rich 
soil, his supply of servants, and his abundant crops, 
the Virginia planter of 1675 did not thrive. There 
had been a wise attempt on the part of the Assembly, 
in 1667, to establish manufactures, particularly of 
cloth. But the zeal in their behalf had subsided, and, 
after a little while, had become comparatively fruit- 
less. There were no manfacturing operations in Vir- 
ginia worthy of account. For his simple utensils, the 
planter might rely upon his own unpractised handi- 
craft ; but for his more important ones, for his house- 
hold goods, and for almost all his clothing, he must 
look to the market of Europe. His entire crop of to- 
bacco was scarcely sufficient to provide clothing for 
his dependents. " His sheep " — if he had any — 
" yielded good increase, and bore good fleeces ; but — 
he sheared them only to cool them." While producing 
abundance, he was impoverished. With all his wealth, 
he was poor. The paradox is easily explained : 
planters sheared sheep to cool them ; government 
sheared planters to heat them. This our narrative 
will show. 

In the year 1675, Stafford was the upmost or fron- 
tier county on the Potomac. On a pleasant Sabbath 



360 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

morning in the spring of this year, a party of men 
were passing along the almost pathless forest in the 
upper part of the county. They were neighbors, — 
which, in those days, meant that they did not live 
very many miles apart, — and had fallen in with each 
other, by a sort of tacit appointment, on their ways to 
their little rustic church, embowered by itself far from 
any one plantation, " though placed in the middest of 
them." In this remote district, it was very seldom 
that public worship could be held ; for there were but 
about fifty parishes in Virginia, and " not above a 
fifth part of them were supplied with ministers." * 

Glad to improve so rare an opportunity, the party 
had been freely gossiping about their domestic ex- 
perience and prospects, when one of them very inno- 
cently gave a turn to their discourse, by a somewhat 
scrutinizing survey of the garments of a companion 
who had but just joined them. He did it by no 
means impertinently, but it was noticed. 

" Brandon ! I am a sorry-looking fellow, for one 



* Virginia's Cure, 4. Campbell, 79. Sir William Berkeley, writing 
in 1670 or 1671, said : " Our ministers are well paid, and by my consent 
should be better, if they would pray oftener and preach less. But as of 
all other commodities, so of this, the worst are sent to us." (Campbell, 79.) 
The old Cavalier disliked popular education, and a preaching ministry 
as an auxiliary to it. Yet it is not improbable that the clergy of Vir- 
ginia used their pulpits politically, and perhaps some of them tvere of 
"the worst." Hammond, in his "Leah and Rachel," printed in 1656, 
said that — previously, to be sure — " Virginia savouring not handsome- 
ly in England, very few Gospel Ministers would adventure thither. Yet 
many came, such as wore Black Coats, and could babble in a Pulpit, 
roare in a Tavern, exact from their Parishioners, and rather by their 
dissolutenesse destroy than feed their Flocks." And added, " Oh ! that 
God would stir up the hearts of more to go over, such as would teach 
good doctrine, and not paddle in faction or state matters ! " (pp. 9, 20.) 



FRONTIER LIFE. 361 

going to church, I know ; but God knows it 's neither 
my fault nor his, blessed be his name ! " 

" I beg pardon, Bailey. I was inspecting your 
Sunday dress, to be sure ; but it was thoughtlessly, 
and yet thoughtfully. I mean, I was not conscious 
of an act which might seem impertinent, and yet 
your garments set me a thinking. But what did you 
mean by saying, ' nor his fault ' ? " 

" I meant that the Lord has given me land enough, 
and cattle, and servants, and as brave a wife as ever 
came to Virginia woods ; how, then, can I lay a 
threadbare coat to his charge ? " 

u I know, I know," replied the other sharply ; 
u you 're robbed ; we 're all robbed." 

" Lawfully, though." 

" Legally, not lawfully." 

" Well, well," replied Bailey, " lawfully is by law, 
and legally is by law. But robbery is robbery 
after all." 

" What do you mean ? " inquired Thomas Hope, 
another of the neighbors. " You talk about robbery 
and law-robbing. All I know is, that we can get 
nothing for our tobacco, and so we are poor. But 
no man robs us." 

" Heavens ! don't you know, Hope, what the Navi- 
gation Law is ? " inquired Bailey. 

" Navigation Law ! No. But I know what the 
Navigation Act is. I 've heard o' thatP 

His companions laughed at their neighbor's igno- 
rance ; but Bailey replied indifferently : " Well, sir, 
the Navigation Act is the Navigation Law." 

" Oh ! is it ? And what has the Navigation Act 
to do with robbing, pray ? " 

31 



362 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

u Did you not say," asked Brandon, " that yon 
know what the Navigation Act is ? " 

" Yes." 

« What is it ? " 

" Why, it 's the law about sailing ships ; and I say 
I don't see what ship-sailing has to do with robbing." 

" Upon my word," rejoined Bailey, "you must have 
kept away from folks a great while, if you have n't 
heard how the Navigation Act robs you." 

" I 've been among folks some, — to the County 
Courts, and once I went to Quarter Court to James- 
town, and seed Sir William in his grand dress a- 
horseback. So you need n't think I have n't been 
among folks. And I 've heard a deal said, in a kind 
o' a swearin' way, about the Navigation Act ; but 
somehow I never could see what a planter like me, 
up here in the woods, has to do with navigation." 

" Did you never ask, Hope ? " inquired Brandon, 
who really felt sorry for his neighbor's heedless igno- 
rance. 

" No. I don't have nothin' to do with ships, only 
when one comes up the river for tobacco. What 
should I ask for ? " 

" Suppose you ask now." 

" Well," said the other, good-humoredly, " I '11 ask. 
What has the Navigation Act to do with me, or with 
robbing folks ? " 

" What do you get for your crop ? " 
" About three happence. Maybe sometimes, for 
very good, tuppence." 

u And why don't you get threepence, fourpence, 
sixpence ? " 

" My soul ! if I did, I never should get to heaven, 



FRONTIER LIFE. 363 

I should be so rich ; for a rich man can't get into the 
kingdom. The Lord preserve me from sixpence a 
pound ! " 

" Don't deceive yourself, Hope," said Brandon, 
laughing. " Don't deceive yourself with Puritan 
cant on the way to church. If sixpence a pound 
were offered you, I fear me you 'd forget about the 
kingdom of heaven." 

" Maybe, maybe. I only said, ' The Lord preserve 
me.' Well, Brandon, thrippence, fuppence, sixpence, 
why don't I get it ? " 

a It 's time you should know, Hope. The Naviga- 
tion Act says that the man who buys your tobacco 
shall not carry it anywhere but to England." 

" All right. Old England ought to have it." 

" But if Old England has all that grows in Vir- 
ginia, she has more than she wants." 

" Then let 'em carry it somewhere else." 

" Right, neighbor ; you 're right there. You have 
hit the nail on the head ; and so has .the Navigation 
Act, for it says they sha? nH carry it anywhere else." 

"Sha'n't!" 

" Exactly, — sha' n't. And so, you see, if there is 
ten times as much Virginia tobacco in England as 
is wanted there, and if the law won't let them sell it 
anywhere else, then the law touches your tobacco 
crop, and your pocket." 

" Yes, yes, I see. Because they can't sell it." 

" No. They sell it, but they get so little for it that 
they can give you but little." 

" So that 's the law, is it ? that 's the Navigation 
Act ? " 

" A part of it." 



364 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

« And what 's t' other part ? " 

M There are two other parts. One is, that if the 
ships could carry your crop to France or Holland, 
you would get twice, or three or four times, as much 
for it. And the other is, that the ships shall not 
bring you a plough, or a spade, or a pair of shears, or 
a piece of cloth, unless they are made in England." 

" An't that a good law ? Faith ! I don't want my 
things from anywhere else. The English can beat 
the French, and Dutch, and all, a makin' 'em, any 
day. Where can we get so good as in good Old 
England ? — God bless her ! " 

Brandon was determined that Hope should under- 
stand a matter so important, and patiently proceeded 
to instruct him. 

" I '11 give you the whole in a nut-shell. You take 
a cargo of tobacco. You must carry it to England. 
* Sir,' you say, ' will you buy my tobacco ? ' ' No, 
no, Mr. Hope. I have too much on hand already. 
I don't want it.' ' Very well, Mr. Londoner, I '11 just 
take it over to Holland.' The man grins, and you 
go away. But just then Mr. Navigation Act comes 
along, and says : ' Take care, Hope ! If you take a 
pound to Holland, I '11 trounce you ! ' Now it would 
be a queer thing for little Mr. Hope to set himself up 
in a tussle with the British Lion. So he scratches his 
head to think ; and being made all of a tremble by 
just the hint of good Old England's wrath, he comes 
back, and says : ' Mi'. Londoner, please take my to- 
bacco. Mr. Navigation Act says I must n't take it 
to Holland.' < So, so, Mr. Hope ! exactly so. Well, 
to accommodate you, I '11 take it for so much.' 
1 That 's a ruinous price for a planter, Mr. Lon- 



FRONTIER LIFE. 365 

doner ! ' ' Can't help it, Mr. Hope ; sorry for you, 
but can't give more.' So you make your bargain at 
a ruinous price. But you have n't got through with 
Mr. Navigation Act yet. You want cloth and other 
things to bring back ; not money. You go about, 
jingling it in your pocket, to buy. 'But, Mr. Clothier, 
Mr. Brazier, Mr. Cordwainer, Mr. Cutler, these are 
ruinous prices for a Virginia planter ! ' ' Can't help 
it, Mr. Hope ; we hardly make a penny,' the liars ! 
* Well, gentlemen, I can't afford it. Mounseer or 
Mynheer can do better by me.' Then comes Mr. 
Navigation Act again, with his cudgel : ' Take care, 
Mr. Hope, how you take French goods, or Dutch 
goods, or any other than English goods, into Vir- 
ginia.' And so my good friend Hope sneaks back, 
and says : ' Gentlemen, I can't help myself ; I must 
have your goods, and I must take them at your 
prices.' So you trade ; the ruinous price of the 
buyer to sell for, and the ruinous price of the seller 
to buy for. And between them both, poor Planter 
Hope is pretty well fleeced, and brings back ruinous 
little for his crop. Now you don't go yourself; but 
that is just the way, my friend, that our tobacco, 
which we must sell, is sold ; and just the way our 
goods, which we must have, are bought. The Navi- 
gation Act was made for London purses, for London 
extortioners, and we are at their mercy, — that 's all.* 

* The English Navigation Act reached its climax of severity in 1663. 
It had its origin in a measure adopted by the Long Parliament for bring- 
ing the colonies into subjection, and for ruining the commerce of the 
Dutch. This was the nucleus. This famous act was not a Stuart 
measure, nor Cromwellian, nor Hanoverian. It was national. It was 
English. England, ever supremely selfish, and in her selfishness insane, 
held it as an axiom, that Englishmen of full blood became vulgarized 
31* 



366 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

So you understand what makes my neighbor Bailey 
here wear such a coat on Sunday." 

" Thunder ! " and the frontier man stood agape. 

" What ! " 

« Is that the Navigation Act ? " 

16 That is the Navigation Act, which you 've heard 
folks ' kind o' swearin' about.' " 

16 'Fore George ! it cuts both ways ! " 

" Does it ? " asked Brandon, sarcastically. 

" Well," innocently replied Hope, " we must tell 
the Governor to get a better law." 

" Easier said than done ! " muttered Bailey, with 
bitterness. 

" But I 'm sure Sir William will do what he can 
to help us, and he 's a great man with the king." 

" Better for you to let the Navigation Act be as it 
is, neighbor," said Brandon. 

" Better ! " exclaimed Hope, puzzled by Brandon's 
apparent versatility. 

" Yes." 

" What do you mean ? Just now you was saying 
that — " 

u Hold, friend ! Repeal the Navigation Act, and 
you 'd get sixpence a pound. ' The Lord preserve 
you from sixpence a pound ! ' you know. How 
hardly shall they that have riches — " 

and emasculated by the very act of emigration ; that thenceforth they 
were fit only to be hewers of wood and drawers of water for her from 
whom they had gone out. This prompted her to the oppression of 
those whom nature, common sense, and Christianity required her to 
cherish. She persisted in her doctrine and in her oppression, until her 
"mischief returned upon her own head, and her violent dealing came 
down on her own pate." The blow displaced the brightest jewel of her 
crown. 



FRONTIER LIFE. 367 

The three had fallen a little in the rear of their 
companions, but were now arrested in their progress 
by the halt of the others, who blocked up the narrow 
footpath. Perceiving a look of inquiry in their faces, 
Brandon suspended his sentence, and asked what was 
the matter. 

" It 's Robert Hen's house," replied one. " We are 
wondering that he has not come out. He 's going to 
church, I know ; for he 'd be on his way to Northum- 
berland County. He 's going to be herdsman to a 
planter there." 

Robert Hen had been a servant, but had worked 
out his indentures with credit to himself. His mas- 
ter, as was customary with the planters, had allowed 
him a little patch of ground for his own behoof. 
This he had patiently cultivated during the years of 
his service, in those hours of ordinary days, and on 
Saturday afternoons, when the custom of the country 
did not exact labor for the master. Year after year, 
he had raised his little parcel of tobacco, and carefully 
husbanded or invested its proceeds. A breeding pig 
and a heifer, which had freely herded with his mas- 
ter's, had prettily increased ; so that he had a little 
live stock and a few farming tools to begin life with 
on his own account. Besides, there was a buxom 
dairy-maid on his master's plantation who had not 
said, " No " ; and her time of service was nearly out. 
So honest Robert had just taken up,* as by law he 
had a right to do, an unpatented lot of fifty acres by 

* The enormous grants to Culpepper and Arlington — of which more 
hereafter — could not prevent new occupations of land by resolute men. 
Besides, at this date, the transaction was not universally known among 
the frontier-men, or at best was vaguely understood. 



368 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the river, and had built for himself — and Susan — a 
snug log cottage. Just now, he had an opportunity 
to turn his time to good profit by serving Mr. 
T. M., — nobody knows anything of his name but 
its initials. So he had arranged to leave the trifling 
affairs of his cabin in charge of a young lad, until 
Susan and the parson should be ready ; when his 
master was to present him — as was usual upon a 
servant's discharge — with ten bushels of corn, two 
new suits of clothes, and a gun. 

The rude chimney and the ridge of his house were 
but just discernible by the party through the branches 
of the trees. After a little silent waiting, one of them 
gave a loud halloo. . But the call died away in the 
forest without an answer. 

" I will go and find him," said Brandon ; and he 
immediately advanced through the trees in the di- 
rection of the cottage. In a few moments his call 
was heard, in tones of such distress and terror, that 
every man started instantly, and with rushing speed. 
They found Brandon in the door-way of the humble 
dwelling, on one knee, and supporting against his 
shoulder the mangled and ghastly body of Robert 
Hen. An Indian lay dead upon the threshold, and 
both were shockingly wounded on their heads, arms, 
and other parts of their persons. 

" There is life in him yet," said Brandon ; " let us 
save him if we can." 

Some attempt was made to revive the dying man, 
but it was too late. Robert's eyes were fast glazing. 
He seemed conscious, however, that friends were pres- 
ent, for he slightly pressed the hand of Brandon. 

" Robert ! Robert ! " he exclaimed, " who has done 
this?" 



FRONTIER LIFE. 369 

The man made two or three ineffectual attempts to 
reply ; but at last he articulated in a whisper, " Doegs ! 
Doegs ! " and expired. This was the name of a tribe, 
or small family, of Indians in the neighboring county 
of Northumberland. 

A noise from the interior of the house now startled 
the party. Brandon dropped the corpse, which he 
was still supporting, and sprang to his feet, while all 
receded a few steps from the door, where they stood 
together, waiting resolutely, though unarmed. The 
alarm, however, was but for a moment, for there ap- 
peared only the lad with whom poor Robert was to 
have placed in charge his little home. He was pale 
as ashes ; and no sooner did he perceive the group 
without, than he leaped frantically over the dead 
bodies before him, and sank fainting on the ground. 
As soon as he recovered, he informed the party that 
he had been woke about daybreak by an outcry from 
Robert, whom he found standing in the door-way, 
defending himself with a hatchet against a number 
of Indians, one of whom was lying almost lifeless 
at his feet ; that he had hidden himself beneath the 
bed, where he had remained half dead with terror, 
until he heard the, voices of Brandon and his com- 
panions.* 

The death of Opechancanough had proved the 
death of the Powhattan confederacy. The thirty 
tribes, severed, dispersed, and conscious of their 
weakness, had usually remained quiet upon their 
new fields and hunting-grounds without annoyance 
to the English. So long had this continued, that the 

* T. M.'s Account. 



370 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

restrictions upon intercourse which were imposed in 
the time of Necotowance had been practically an- 
nulled ; the Indians now traded at " stated marts " 
with the English, and had "free intercourse with the 
people of all the counties." Some depredations had 
been committed upon the property of the border set- 
tlements, but the resident Indians had disavowed 
all share therein, and their disavowal had been sat- 
isfactory. The murder of Robert Hen was the first 
shedding of English blood which had occurred for 
many years, and, as we shall see, it had important 
results. 

Great, therefore, was the commotion at the little 
church in the woods, when his mangled corpse, brought 
thither on a rude litter, was laid before the chancel. 
But no sooner had the rustic congregation heard the 
manner in which one of their number — a favorite 
with all who knew him — had met his death, than 
their consternation gave place to wrath. It was with 
difficulty that they could be restrained within the 
bounds of decorum during the solemn service for the 
dead ; but when they came to commit dust to dust, 
and thought of the wreck of manliness and manly 
hope which had been wrought, and witnessed the 
dumb and stony agony of the orphan who stood 
there in a strange land beside the grave of her be- 
trothed, — they swore. Not noisily, not wildly, but 
in those stern, subdued tones which belong to strong 
men resolute, they swore to avenge the blood of Rob- 
ert and the breaking heart of the maiden. They 
kept their oath. 

Intelligence of the tragedy had in the mean time 
been sent to Colonel Mason and Captain Brent, who 



FRONTIER LIFE. 371 

lived a few miles down the river. The news spread 
rapidly. The hardy planters rallied ; and soon Mason 
and Brent, with a small body of men under their com- 
mand, sped upon the trail of the murderers. After 
passing twenty miles up the river, and four miles 
across it within the bounds of Maryland, the party 
under Brent attacked a cabin occupied by the Doeg 
Indians, and slew the chief and ten of his men. Those 
under Mason were doing the work of revenge at an- 
other cabin, a little way off. Having slaughtered 
fourteen, the Colonel, to his great consternation and 
grief, found that he was assailing a party of Susque- 
hannah Indians, who were friendly to the Virginians. 
He instantly called upon his men, in God's name, to 
desist. This part of the expedition was an unfortu- 
nate affair* 

In the previous year, 1674, the Dutch government 

* For the particulars of this occurrence, and also of the murder of 
Eobert Hen, I depend upon T. M.'s Account, in Force, Vol. I. His nar- 
rative, to which I shall frequently refer, was addressed to Hon. Eobert 
Harley, Secretary of State and one of her Majesty's Privy Council. It 
was drawn up at his request, from memory, and is dated July 13, 1705, 
thirty years after the occurrences which it relates. T. M. was a member 
of the House of Burgesses in Virginia in 1676. His position in society, 
his personal interviews with Bacon, the chief actor in the events which 
he relates, and his being an eyewitness of some of them, render his ac- 
count, together with its dispassionate simplicity, worthy of the highest 
confidence. The original manuscript was purchased, at the sale of a 
bookseller's effects, by Mr. King, our Minister in London, in 1803, and 
by him sent to Mr. Jefferson, then our Chief Magistrate. 

I have also before me a very rare anonymous tract, printed in London 
in 1677, entitled " Strange News from Virginia." It represents the 
transactions of 1676 in Virginia as owing solely to the wanton ambition 
and desperate fortune of a conceited man. Beverly's account also repre- 
sents Bacon as influenced only by a "seditious humor." The wrong 
done to his memory by those two writers will perhaps appear in the 
following pages. 



372 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

had made a final cession of New York to the English, 
The Dutch had long sustained a valuable traffic in 
furs with the Indians living at the head of the Chesa- 
peake Bay, who used yearly to pass southward to 
hunt and to purchase skins, ranging in their course 
along the western frontier of Virginia. The English 
traders, who had occupied New York most of the 
time for ten years before its cession, covetous of the 
valuable fur-trade, and reckless of the laws of frater- 
nity, had inspired these Indians first with jealousy, 
and then with hatred, towards the Virginians, who 
had shared in the benefits of the traffic. The depre- 
dations upon border property which have been men- 
tioned had been committed probably by these travel- 
ling parties. But they were now roused to more se- 
rious aggressions, and began to spill blood both in 
Virginia and in Maryland as they passed to and fro ; 
and soon after the affair of Mason and Brent — doubt- 
less a provoking cause — murders became frequent. 
The Indians who were in treaty with Virginia had 
not given notice of the approach of these enemies, nor 
had they done anything to deter them, as by treaty 
they were bound to do. This roused the jealousy of 
the whites, who, under the excitement caused by the 
assassinations of their neighbors, and without suffi- 
cient evidence, were led to adjudge the friendly tribes 
as accomplices, and were ready to fall upon them 
upon the least pretence. The Marylanders had al- 
ready engaged in open hostilities with the Piscataway 
Indians and with the Susquehannahs, both of them 
tribes at peace with Virginia. The latter, driven from 
their homes by the Senecas, had sought shelter in a 
fort of the Piscataways, near the head of the Poto- 



FRONTIER LIFE. 373 

mac* This fort was besieged by the Marylanders not 
long after the murder of Robert Hen and the action of 
Mason and Brent. It stood on a low, swampy spot, 
its walls consisting of high banks of earth. At each 
angle was an abutment furnished with loopholes, and 
commanding all approach upon the entire line of each 
diverging wall. At the base, and around the whole 
fort, was a ditch, broad, deep, and filled with water. 
Without this ditch was a strong palisade formed of 
young trees from five to eight inches in diameter, 
sunk some three feet or more in the earth, and about 
eight or ten feet in height. Through apertures in 
this palisade, the Indians could do execution upon 
any assailants, as well as through those in the abut- 
ments. An approaching party must, therefore, sustain 
a fire directly in front, and, when at the foot of the 
palisades, could be raked on either flank. The strength 
of the structure itself, the insecure, boggy footing 
without, and the facilities for defensive operations, 
forbade all hope of carrying it by storm, except at great 
loss.f The Maryland infantry, having no cannon, had 
undertaken to reduce it by siege. The Indians before 
long had become straitened for food, and had con- 
trived to evade the careless sentries of the English so 
often, as to have stolen away and devoured nearly all 
the horses of those who had ridden thither. Besides, 
they had made so frequent sallies, and with such spirit, 
that scarce a day passed when their besiegers did not 
seriously suffer. :£ Under these circumstances, the 



* T. M.'s Account, 9; "Mrs. An. Cotton's Account of our Late 
Troubles in Virginia," 3, — in Force, Vol. I. 
t T. M.'s Account, 10. 

% The Burwell Narrative, 5, — a paper of the time, in Force, Vol. I. 
32 



374 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Marylanders sent to Virginia for a reinforcement. A 
body of men was according sent, under command of 
Colonel John Washington.* When these arrived, 
the Indians had begun to be seriously pinched for 
want of food, and were also disturbed by seeing their 
professed friends sit down in league with their ene- 
mies. Both of these circumstances inclined them 
to confer with the English for peace ; and on this 
errand they sent out six f of their chief men. These 
were immediately seized by the " two commanders," 
and put to death. This unaccountable treatment of 
an embassy for peace roused the fainting Indians to 
desperate fury. They made fierce and bloody sallies, 
and when offered parley gave no other answer than 
" Where are our great men ? " " At the end of six 
weeks " — from the commencement of the siege ? — 
the remaining Indians, being seventy-five warriors, be- 
sides women and children, having destroyed every- 
thing within the fort which could be of value, slipped 
through the lines of their enemies " in the darke " ; $ 
as they passed, knocking out the brains of ten Eng- 
lishmen, whom they found asleep. 

On their retreat over the heads of the Rappahannock, 
York, and James rivers, they plucked sixty scalps from 
the plantations on the outskirts. They then sent a 
remonstrance to Sir William Berkeley, demanding 
why he had taken up arms against them, contrary to 

* He was a member of the House of Burgesses, and the great-grand- 
father of George Washington. Cotton's Account, 3 ; Campbell, 81. 

t So say Cotton's Account and the Burwell Narrative. T. M. says 
four. 

% Cotton's Account ; more probable than T. M.'s, which says, " by 
moonlight past our guards, hallowing and firing att them without oppo- 
sition." 



FRONTIER LIFE. 375 

their league ; " declaring their sorrow to see the Vir- 
ginians, of friends to becom such violent enimies as 
to persue the Chase in to another's dominions " ; 
complaining that their messengers of peace were not 
only knocked on the head, but the fact countenanced 
by the Governor ; saying that they had ' ; killed ten for 
one of the Virginians, such being the disperportion 
between there grate men murthered, and those by 
them slane " ; and adding, that, if he chose to con- 
sider the account balanced, to let the matter rest 
here, and to renew "the ancient league of amity," 
well ; " otherways they and those whom they had 
ingaged to their intress [interest] were resolved to 
fite it out to the last man." These overtures were 
rejected. The Indians, therefore, drew into their 
league others, who had hitherto lived peaceably in 
the neighborhood of the frontier, and immediately 
commenced a determined war. The whites were 
attacked in their fields by day, in their dwellings by 
night, or captured by ambuscades as they ventured 
through the forests. Soon, not a day passed without 
bloodshed. 

The border planters were terrified ; not only because 
they found themselves attacked suddenly by a resolute 
and stealthy enemy, but by one who seemed even 
unusually stimulated to cruelty. White men, in un- 
guarded moments, were captured by the prowling 
savages, taken before the doors of their lonely cabins ; 
one by one, the nails were torn from their hands and 
feet ; one by one, their teeth were wrenched from their 
jaws ; their eyes were rooted from their sockets ; and 
slowly, little by little, from crown to heel, the skin of 
each helpless victim was peeled from the bounding 



376 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

flesh. If then the heart still beat, he was left to 
die.* 

Such a warfare was horrible. And when, as they 
often did, the English scouts discovered such a corpse 
where they went to find a living friend, the most 
sturdy and iron-nerved men would pale and sicken. 
The Virginians were appalled. Many of the more 
exposed plantations were strewed with the dead, or 
deserted by the living. Seldom was a cabin burned 
or a crop destroyed. The Indians seemed bent only 
upon death. The people were compelled, for mutual 
safety, to crowd together, — two, three, four families 
in a house, which they would fortify as well as they 
were able. No man crossed the threshold without his 
gun. They tilled their several fields in bands, going 
first to one, then to another, their weapons by their 
sides, and their sentinels around them.f 

Of course, information of these atrocities was sent 
to Jamestown, and the aid of the Governor was im- 
plored. The messages were answered by promises. 
Sir William had, indeed, sent Sir Henry Chichely, 
the Lieutenant-Governor, against the Indians, with 
five hundred men ; but he had also, mysteriously and 
suddenly, recalled them in the midst of their march. 
By his order also, or at least with his approbation, 
eight rude forts were constructed and manned along 
the border, which the Indians laughed at. A body of 
rangers would have proved protective, but stationary 
forces were easily evaded. Instead of being a benefit 
to the planters by making them safer or quieter, they 
were a new evil. The Indians levied upon their lives 

* Burwell Narrative, 7. t T. M., 10. 



FRONTIER LIFE. 377 

none the less ; the garrisons levied upon their scanty 
property the more. The people petitioned for their 
removal. But no. A British governor-royal could not 
have erred in judgment! Or, if he had, it would be 
derogatory to his station to acknowledge it ; doubly 
so, to undo a deed to please the vulgar or spare their 
purse. So had the favorite of the people changed, 
and so had their condition changed, since thirteen 
years ago ! Now he was their lord. 

The people became indignant ; not the people upon 
the belt of country along the river-heads only, but the 
whole people, — for the blood of the Virginian in 
Jamestown or Accomac boiled within him when he 
heard that the blood of the borderer was shed, — and 
he was yet more excited when it was said, " The bor- 
derer is unaided and oppressed." If one member 
suffered, all the members suffered with it. With lit- 
tle exception, there was but one heart in Virginia, — 
and it ached. 

But border war was not her only affliction. In 
1669, the king had made a grant to Lord Culpepper 
of all territory lying between the Rappahannock and 
the Potomac. Early in 1673, he had granted to Cul- 
pepper and the Earl of Arlington, their executors, ad- 
ministrators, and assigns, the entire territory and do- 
minion of Virginia for thirty-one years ; making them 
lords proprietary of all the domain, and vesting in 
them all quitrents, duties, and escheats, — to be paid 
in specie, and not in commodity. These grants covered 
not only wild lands, but plantations long occupied, 
improved, and owned under the previous charters of 
the colony. As soon as these grants began to be put 
in execution in Virginia, in 1674, they naturally pro- 

32* 



378 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

duced great commotion ; for no one knew whether he 
had safe title to his own plantation. It was but an 
ungracious return, the people thought, for all their 
generous loyalty to the king in the years of his exile 
and distress. Partial insurrections had taken place ; 
but, having been without concert and without a com- 
petent head, they had been easily subdued. The As- 
sembly had immediately sent commissioners to re- 
monstrate with the king, to solicit a modification or 
a purchase of the grants, and "to procure a more 
perfect charter and constitution for Virginia." This 
embassy involved great expense, — for nothing could 
be effected at the court of Charles II. without enor- 
mous bribes, — and created the necessity of special 
and heavy taxes upon the people, who had now 
waited a whole year without any encouragement from 
their commissioners. 

But neither were border war and unrighteous grants 
the only afflictions of Virginia. The Assembly which 
had been convened in 1662, and elected for the term 
of two years, had not yet been dissolved. Conse- 
quently, the people had been deprived, during thirteen 
years, of the right of electing representatives. When 
vacancies had occurred, they had indeed gone to the 
polls ; but false returns of the elections had been made 
by the sheriffs. In addition to this, a majority of the 
people had lost all right of sum-age by a law passed in 
1670, that "none but freeholders and housekeepers 
should thereafter have a voice in the election of any 
burgesses." Thus the people were disfranchised. 
The right of representation, so long and so resolutely 
cherished by the Virginians, was rifled. County offi- 
cers and parish officers, in whose appointment they 



FRONTIER LIFE. 379 

had no voice, arbitrarily laid the taxes in their respec- 
tive districts ; while even the power of levying the 
colonial taxes had been resigned by the Burgesses to 
the Governor and Council. 

But neither were border war, and grants of territory, 
and the loss of representation, with its consequences 
of arbitrary taxation and irresponsible officials, the 
only afflictions of Virginia. The taxes themselves 
were grievous. The impoverishing operation of the 
Navigation Act we have brought to view. It had 
advanced a step beyond what has been stated, for the 
trade between the colonies themselves was taxed. 
There was also a tax upon the curing of fish, and a 
tax upon all exports as well as imports. The people 
were taxed for forts to enforce the Navigation Act; 
as, in England, men were condemned to be hung, 
and to pay forty shillings for the operation. They 
were taxed for useless forts on the frontiers. They 
were taxed for the very large salary of the Governor. 
They were taxed for the wages of the Burgesses. 
They were taxed for the expenses of their commis- 
sioners in England. They were taxed for the emolu- 
ments of eight justices of the peace in each county, 
and by the justices at will.* They were taxed by the 
parish officers, also at will.f The amounts of the 
three last-named taxes were often fraudulently used, 
or wholly absorbed by useless officials, or shared by 



* Bland's letter to Berne, in Burk, II., Appendix. 

t The Governor's salary was £1,200, or about 150,000 pounds of to- 
bacco. Campbell, 79, compared with Bancroft, II. 206, note. The wages 
of the Burgesses were 8,750 pounds of tobacco per diem; equivalent to 
about nine or ten dollars a day for each Burgess, — calculating from the 
statement in Bland's letter to Berne, in Burk. II. 248, and on the suppo- 



380 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

those who farmed them of the government. Besides, 
there were often taxes for gifts voted by the Assembly 
"to the Governor and other great men." All the 
taxes were laid by the poll, " whereby the poorer sort 
were in the heaviest condition, who, having nothing 
but their labor to maintain themselves, wives, and 
children, paid as deeply to the public as he that had 
twenty thousand acres." To a people thus oppressed, 
it was peculiarly irritating that members of the Coun- 
cil were exempted from all these burdens, and that the 
royal quitrents, instead of having been applied to the 
benefit of the colony, had been given away for a term 
of years to one Colonel Norwood. The direct taxa- 
tion, in general, was sufficiently proper in its objects. 
Its oppressiveness consisted partly in its excessive 
amount, but chiefly in the comparative worthless- 
ness of the common currency, induced by the Navi- 
gation Act. 

Are obstinacy and avarice besetting sins of old 
age ? Sir William Berkeley was old. Why did he 
neglect to furnish efficient military aid to the fron- 
tier-men in their terrible necessity ? His obstinacy — 
we may add, his aristocratic pride — was apparent in 
his refusal to withdraw the garrisons. But had the 
high-minded Cavalier become avaricious ? The rec- 
ords said, that, thirteen years before, he had virtually 
obtained a monopoly of the lucrative trade with the 
Indians in furs, and popular rumor said that this kept 

sition of thirty-five Burgesses, and tobacco at twopence a pound, rather 
more than it was worth. 

The taxes for the Commissioners were one hundred pounds of to- 
bacco per poll, and from thirty to seventy pounds of tobacco upon every 
unsuccessful suitor in the courts. Beverly, 66 ; Hildreth, I. 525. 



FRONTIER LIFE. 381 

him from authorizing hostilities against them. It 
added, also, that he had an eye to the confiscations 
which would fill his coffers, should the colonists ven- 
ture upon unauthorized hostilities. But however this 
may have been, he did nothing in behalf of the perish- 
ing, and the Indians still perpetrated their atrocities. 
The sufferers had petitioned for relief, and had been 
answered only with promises. They then petitioned 
that they themselves might march against the savages ; 
they offered to go as volunteers ; they offered to go, 
poor as they were, at their own charges; but the 
Governor resented and rejected their offers.* Useless 
and burdensome garrisons, a sham expedition, and 
days of public fasting and humiliation, were his only 
measures for protection. The people went to church 
armed ; they went to court armed ; they went to 
work armed ; they went to bed armed ; but they 
might not go against the Indians armed. Civil dis- 
abilities and impositions had galled them to a degree 
which would have vented itself before in open insur- 
rection, but for their long-established habits of loyalty. 
Now, under the pressure of a merciless war, they be- 
gan to take counsel of their natural instincts. Com- 
mon wrongs and common peril were ripening common 
sympathy. The people came together, here, there, 
wherever they could. They talked. They counted 
their grievances. The gatherings were more fre- 
quent, more tumultuous, more grave, and more 
stimulating, and the portentous mutterings of des- 
peration began to be heard, from the heads of the 
rivers to the eastern shore. 

* Breviarie and Conclusion, in Burk, II. 250, — a paper of the day. 
Campbell, 80. 



382 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Grants which undermined whole plantations ; the 
loss of suffrage and the loss of representation ; grind- 
ing taxation ; impoverishing commercial restrictions ; 
and a fiendish, skulking enemy whom they were for- 
bidden to drive away, — such were the causes of the 
events to be narrated. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 

Within some few miles of the Falls of 
James River was one of the most inviting 
plantations in all Virginia. Its western portion was 
undulating, and covered with a forest of pine, oak, 
hickory, locust, chestnut, &c, where deer browsed 
and wild-fowl brooded their young. From its east- 
ern portion, where the dwelling of the owner stood, 
the forest had been cleared away, and its fields were 
mottled with the various crops usually raised by an 
ambitious planter of ample means. It terminated on 
the eastward in a broad meadow, lying upon a gen- 
erous and fertilizing stream. 

In a small apartment of the mansion, which, though 
of but one story, was of spacious dimensions, sat a 
young mother, whose appearance denoted at once that 
she had been familiar with more polished life than 
belonged to the wilds of Virginia. Her complexion, 
her features, and her dress were such as mark the 
educated and refined woman. The outline of her 
form was pleasing in its proportions, and indicated 
health. There was an intent vigor in the manner in 
which she plied her needle, in the nervous but regular 
cadence of her foot as she rocked the cradle of her 
little one, and in the quick, eager way in which she 
occasionally looked out upon the lawn, which be- 



384 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

trayed unusual energy of character. There were un- 
mistakable marks of mind and refinement around her, 
as well as in her person and costume. The furniture 
of the room, though not rich, was adapted to comfort, 
and in good taste. There were some little elegances 
here and there, such as a true woman likes to collect 
around her ; a few choice engravings upon the wall, 
and they were classical designs too ; a small but 
beautiful painting of Hagar and Abraham, in a posi- 
tion to catch the best light ; a few small books upon 
the table, and some hundred or two ranged soberly 
within a small alcove. Some of them had a law-look 
about them. The young mother herself seemed to be 
about twenty-two or twenty-three years of age. 

How did such a one as she happen to stray to Vir- 
ginia, and find a home on a frontier swarming with 
hostile savages ? The question is easily answered. 
She was a captive. She had been carefully reared 
and educated in England by the fondest of parents, 
who were just beginning to find a precious reward for 
their care and anxiety in the cheering companionship 
which her opening mind afforded them, when she was 
suddenly torn from their protection, and consigned to 
bonds from which only death could free her. She 
wept sorely when she was taken on shipboard ; but 
there was not one in the wide world who would lift a 
finger to restore her to the home of her girlhood. In 
such a place as London, to say nothing of rural dis- 
tricts, there are always to be found young men who 
think but little of the susceptibility of hearts which 
have beat two score years or more, and go about 
plundering old people's treasures, because, forsooth ! 
their own hearts are young. I wonder how they can ; 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 385 

for I am old and gray now, and know how pass- 
ing value is a filial child. — Tut ! Our story is about 
Marion and Nathanael Bacon! This young gentle- 
man, now less than thirty years of age, was of a good 
family in the county of Suffolk, in England ; had re- 
ceived a liberal education ; " to his title of Gentle- 
man, by his long study at the Inns of Court, had 
added that of Esquire " ; and had travelled freely 
upon the European continent.* His natural talents, 
particularly his powers of elocution, were brilliant. 
With such endowments, to which were added a win- 
ning address, a manly figure, and prepossessing fea- 
tures, he was a prince among the class of young men 
who hoodwink fathers and mothers to steal away 

their daughters. Marion was not proof against 

his winning ways and noble heart. She vowed away 
her life to him at the altar, turned from those who had 
borne and cherished her, and went with him to the 
wilderness. Such had been the opening fortune of 
Marion Bacon. 

And now she sat in her Virginia home alone, ex- 
cept the sleeping treasure in the cradle, which she 
wished she could show to those who had cradled her. 
The wish woke up Memory, who whispered a score 
of bygones in her ear ; telling her so tenderly about 
some little gift, or indulgence, or self-sacrifice, or 
gentle voice, or fond smile, of that old and dateless 
love she had left behind, that she covered her face 
and wept, — not sorrowfully, but lovingly, as young 
wives often do, when the freshness of wedded life has 
passed. Suddenly she started to her feet, noiselessly 



* Strange News. 
S3 



386 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

too, for the babe's sake, and dashed away her tears. 
She had heard the trampling of hoofs. Home, and 
girlhood, and father, and mother were forgotten. 
She saw her husband alight, and with a bounding 
step and a face of sunshine she welcomed him to 
her arms. 

" Tears, Marion ! " as he kissed her brow. 

" And gladness. Tears will come sometimes, when 
I think of England. Besides, what wife on the bor- 
der, when her husband returns safe, can refuse to God 
the offering of a tear? But what have you to tell 
me?" 

" No help and no hope from Jamestown. The 
Governor's Council are disagreed, and disaffection is 
spreading in the lower counties ; but Sir William 
stoutly declares, that he will not be dictated to by 
those whom he is commissioned to govern." 

" And the people ? " 

" Are as stoutly determined as he. I have mingled 
freely with them, you know. But I have been a lis- 
tener and an observer only, not a speaker. I wished 
to study their temper, — whether they were moved by 
fickle passion, or by that honorable and manly pur- 
pose which may be relied on."* 

" And you think them, what ? " 

" Men. Rough, most of them, and very ignorant, 
except of their rights and their wrongs, but sturdy 
and resolute to defend their families." 

" But it will be called treason, or rebellion." 

" Marion ! they have borne oppression, and borne 
it, and borne it, in this shape, and in that shape, 

* Burk, II. 159. 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 387 

rather than seem disloyal. But to sit still and be mur- 
dered, — that passes loyalty, and reason, and nature, 
and the law of Heaven. They will bear no longer. 
They might have kept quiet, and only groaned, had 
it not been for this refusal of protection against the 
Indians. Many are ready to leave the colony, rather 
than stay and be thus exposed, pinioned, to savage 
butchery. But they cannot.* When men are driven 
to the wall, they will fight. And I assure you that 
when we fight, and fight we shall, it will not be 
against the Indians only, but for our stolen rights. 
We will scour the forests, and drive the savages from 
the frontier ; and then, with arms in our hands, will 
demand the restoration of our freedom. Treason ! 
rebellion ! It may be so interpreted. But when a 
people, always loyal, loyal to this very hour, first rise 
only for the defence of their wives and little ones, 
and then demand only the restoration of what the 
crown has given, but the crown's trustee has stolen, 
't is no treason, no rebellion, child ! If such be trea- 
son, I '11 be a loyal traitor, but never a free-born 
Briton slave ! " 

" It is a serious affair," said the wife, gravely ; "we 
must count the cost." 

" Yes, my love, it is a serious affair, and we will 
count the cost. Thank God! I have a wife who 
will help me, by her counsels, her fearlessness, and 
her prayers. Look you, Marion! The people will 
rise. They must have a leader, or they will be scat- 
tered like sheep. Shall your husband lead them ? " 

" I knew it! I knew it!" she exclaimed, "because 

* Burwell Narrative, 8. 



388 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION, 

you said they are men. They would not be, did they 
not know that my husband has not his equal in Vir- 
ginia." 

Bacon smiled, not only at her words, but at read- 
ing the pride, defiance, and gladness which she uncon- 
sciously betrayed in her voice, her features, and her 
attitude. Marion Bacon was not the only woman 
whose husband, in her eyes, has been the man of 
men. 

" But the cost, Marion ! the cost ! You said we 
must count the cost." 

" Yes. I '11 count the cost." 

" But please remember, you and I have nothing to 
gain." 

" Wait ! First, the cost. We may lose our for- 
tune, of which, God be thanked ! he has given 
us enough. We may lose the fortune which you 
would inherit from your uncle. We may lose each 
other, for I know well that Indian warfare is no 
boys' play; and that governors, if they catch those 
whom they call rebels, have no tender mercies. You 
are honored with a seat in the Council. You are 
esteemed by all who know you. We cannot rise 
higher.* All this we may lose. But if Nathanael 
Bacon will give himself to shield the mothers and 
children of Virginia from the tomahawk, and to re- 
deem the rights of freemen, Marion Bacon will give 
Nathanael. If God decrees the cost, let it come. 
We will say, Amen ! " 

" Noble woman ! " 

" Wait a moment longer. I am going to reckon 

* Burk, II. 160. 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 389 

gain. You will gain the gratitude and prayers of the 
unprotected. You will gain the satisfaction of mak- 
ing a noble effort, and risking a noble sacrifice, for 
freedom. That is enough. And if God grant suc- 
cess, that will be a gain we cannot estimate." 

" Marion ! if it be a duty to engage in this affair, 
I can give my heart to it, and stake my fortunes. 
But, seriously, I consider the issue doubtful. Will 
Sir William yield to what he calls the clamor of a 
rabble, and authorize an expedition ? If not, the 
people will go without authority. This may rouse 
him to some measure which will lead to an open 
quarrel. If so, the civil rights of the people will not 
be recovered, I fear, without a bloody struggle, if at 
all. In such a case, you see what will be my posi- 
tion, if I head this movement." 

" I do. On the other hand, ' to him that knoweth 
to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.' " 

" What do you mean ? That sounds like a quota- 
tion." 

Marion smiled, rather sadly though, and replied : 
16 You should read your Bible more, Nathanael. 
Like your namesake whom our Saviour commended, 
you are ' without guile ' ; but I fear me you do not 
search the Scripture so well as he." 

" Bible ! Scripture ! Marion, do you mean to say 
that those words are in the Bible ? Say them again." 

" No, my love, St. James shall say them to you 
himself." 

She opened a Bible, which he himself had given 
her, and pointed out the words. He read them in 
silence. He seemed disturbed ; for he rose and 
walked the room for some minutes, absorbed in 

33* 



390 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

thought, and without a glance at his wife. At 
length he stopped, and said, with a deep inspiration 
and an emphatic gesture: " Marion! God's word is 
a two-edged sword ! " 

" Is that a quotation ? " 

" Quotation ! No. It is out of the depths of my 
heart, — a fresh and earnest conviction." 

" No, Nathanael ! It is something which your 
mother planted there years ago. Look here ! " and 
she showed him the words in the Bible. 

He started, seated himself by her side again, and 
said very deliberately : " How long can a thing be for- 
gotten and yet remembered? Thousands and thou- 
sands of our words and deeds, — perhaps all, — we 
call them gone. But instead of being gone, they have 
only gone to sleep awhile within us ; to wake up by 
and by, and mutter, and knock, and put on very dis- 
agreeable — But that other text ! What a book the 
Bible is ! If a man does bad, it is sin ; and if he dorCt 
do good, it is sin. Poor chance for one who can only 
say, ' I 've not done any one harm ' ! So, I know that 
I can do good, — save my neighbors' lives, that is ; 
and if I doriH do it, I sin ! Is that your meaning ? " 

" St. James's." 

" I see ! It 's just as though I saw a savage raise 
his tomahawk over a woman's head, and did not in- 
terfere. Yet he might make you a widow." 

" If you know that you can be a shield to the de- 
fenceless, be so, and in God's name. If a spear pierce 
the shield, and mine own soul also, be it so. The sin 
is his who speeds the spear. I trust in God." 

" Marion ! You are a heroine, certainly ; and a bit 
of a casuist, or philosopher, or something of the sort." 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 391 

" In this I only follow my master. Nathanael! I 
am a Christian." 

The words were spoken so softly, so humbly, yet 
so earnestly, that they conveyed to his mind, unin- 
tended by her, a keen rebuke. 

" So you are, Marion ! I call myself one ; but if I 
am, I lag behind you amazingly ! More of this an- 
other time. It seems I must n't 'not do.' Now, 
how shall I do ? " 

" Do good ; and do good — well." 

" Now, you are an oracle. But I have your mean- 
ing: you would have me discreet, not rash. I will 
tell you what or how I propose to do. There has 
been no open demand by the people for my services. 
But there will be. I shall comply. But I will do my 
best to obtain Sir William's consent. He has some 
respect for me, or I should not be of his Council. I 
shall address him with all courtesy and deference, 
which I hope may prevail with him to grant me a 
commission. Then, so far as action against the In- 
dians is concerned, I cannot be charged with acting 
illegally. But before arms are laid aside, there must 
be some talk about freemen's rights. Do you ap- 
prove ? " 

" One step at a time. Consider the next, when 
that is taken. Yes ; for the first step, I approve." 

" Well, Marion ! that 's settled. I must see to mat- 
ters on the plantation now. I came to you for coun- 
sel, and I 've had a Bible lesson." 

" Both." 

" Yes, both ; and both good." 

" If my husband comes to me for counsel, he must 
go with me where I get it. The Bible is a more mi- 
nute directory than most men think it is." 



392 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" Upon my word ! I begin to think so. But, Ma- 
rion, it 's very strait ! That ' doeth it not ' ! Ac- 
cording to those words, most men who are very relig- 
ious in their way go to church with a huge train of 
sins behind them ! " 

" O, don't begin to inspect other folks." 

" I '11 say one thing about other folks. Most of our 
parsons would preach better, and behave better, if they 
would come to school to you, and take lessons out of 
the Bible. Kiss me." 

And so they parted for the time. 

" God ! I thank thee," the husband exclaimed de- 
voutly, as he walked out upon his ample grounds, 
" that, in giving me this woman, thou hast given me 
— a wife ! Character, sense, ready to give counsel, 
brings a man face up to the Bible, — so gently and 
modestly too ! Never says, ' You know best ' ; nor, 
< I know best'; nor, <I don't know,' that everlasting 
answer of brainless women ; but, ' Husband ! if any 
man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth lib- 
erally to all] or some other thing out of the Bible to 
fit the case exactly. Not many men so well off as 
you, Nat. Bacon junior, Esquire ; and if you do go to 
perdition, you ought to be ashamed ! " 

No one stood higher in Virginia than this young 
man. Though he had been there less than three 
years, he had already won the esteem of all who knew 
him, and of multitudes who did not. His command- 
ing talents had quickly made him conspicuous, without 
effort or intention of his. He had already been raised 
to the highest office which he could hold, except that 
of Governor ; and had brought with him £ 1,800, 
which, with his right to fifty acres of land for himself, 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 393 

his wife, and each one of his servants, constituted an 
easy, if not abundant fortune. He had been induced 
to leave England by the solicitation of his uncle, Na- 
thanael Bacon, who resided in Virginia, a gentleman 
" of long standing in the Councill, a very rich politick 
man, and childless, designing this kinsman for his 
heir." The junior Bacon had, therefore, no private 
profit to hope for, but the contrary, in sympathizing 
with the masses and espousing their cause. 

It was now early in the month of April. The peo- 
ple were growing very impatient for decided action ; 
and, two or three days after the conversation which 
we have related, and which represents Bacon's true 
position and motives, a large number of people gath- 
ered, and, " with no common zeale, they sent up their 
reiterated prayers, first to himselfe, and next to heaven, 
that he might becom their guardian angel, to protect 
them from the cruelties of the Indians." Immediate- 
ly, and doubtless at his suggestion or demand, they 
made earnest application to the Governor that he 
would ratify their choice, and grant to their general 
elect a commission ; offering to follow their leader at 
their own charges. To this Sir William replied by 
evasive promises. The application was repeated, and 
the promises too. But no commission came. The 
people could ill brook these delays, which seemed to 
them like trifling with their miseries. Accordingly, 
about the 10th of the month, a body of three hundred 
men, among whom were nearly all the officers of the 
government, both civil and military, whose residences 
were near the heads of the rivers, met in the neigh- 
borhood of Bacon's plantation for consultation. The 
question before them was whether to proceed at once 



394 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

against the Indians without a commission, or, yet 
hoping for one, to suffer passively under the murders 
by which they were yet decimated.* 

Upon this occasion Bacon addressed the people in 
a spirited and effective harangue. The Navigation 
Act ; the enormous and illegal grants of land by the 
king ; the oppressive taxes ; the useless and expensive 
garrisons, which the people began to regard as intend- 
ed to overawe them rather than the Indians ; the ex- 
clusion of a large and respectable class of freemen 
from the right of suffrage ; the unaccountable neglect 
of the Governor to shield them from massacre, — 
these were the topics which he urged and expounded 
with all the eloquence of a gifted and indignant mind. 
He assured them that he was ready, at the proper 
time, to lead them against the savages, and to seek 
their relief from civil oppression ; that for the public 
good only he was willing thus to hazard his dear- 
est interests ; and that to this end he pledged himself 
never to lay down arms until success had crowned 
their efforts. He concluded by demanding of them a 
solemn pledge of their faithful co-operation. It was 
promptly given, and his words were answered by the 
ringing applause of his hearers.f It was then resolved 
by the assembly instantly to commence the necessary 
preparations for an Indian war ; to make a new appli- 
cation to the Governor for a commission; and to 
march on a certain day, whether it were received or 
not received ; J while Bacon himself declared, that, 
commission or no commission, if he heard of another 



* T. M.'s Account, 11. J T. M.'s Account, 11. 

t Burk, II. 160-163; Campbell, 82. 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 395 

murder by the savages, he would commence hostili- 
ties, even though but twenty men should join him* 
He immediately drew up and published — as well as 
he could, for there was no printing-press in Virginia 
— a declaration of the public grievances, and the mo- 
tives for the present rising in arms. This declaration 
he issued over his own signature. He also addressed 
a respectful letter, which he sent by a special mes- 
senger to Sir William Berkeley, stating frankly the 
necessity for the people's movement, and conjuring 
him to grant a commission, as the only means of quiet- 
ing their dissatisfaction.! 

It might have been about ten or twelve days after 
these events, or about the middle of April, when 
Bacon, with a clouded brow, announced to his wife 
that he had received a letter from the Governor. 

" Read it," said he, putting it into her hand : " I 
want your opinion." 

He moodily paced the little garden pathway where 
they had met, while Marion read and again read the 
letter. 

" He does not refuse," she observed, as she refolded 
the sheet. 

" Humph ! Does not refuse ! " 

" Will send you a definite answer as soon as he 
can assemble and consult his Council." J 

" O, yes ! — 'an unusual matter,' — ' very impor- 
tant,' — ' time for advice,' — ' high regard for a young 
gentleman of such distinguished talent and rare prom- 



* Burwcll Narrative, 10. $ Beverly, 69. 

t Burk, III. 163. 



396 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ise,' — c fears the young gentleman may compromise 
his own fortunes and high reputation,' — and so forth, 
and so forth. But is the young gentleman of high 
reputation and promise, — the young gentleman, him- 
self a member of the Council, — is he summoned to 
meet them ? The whole letter is chaff; a cant, hypo- 
critical way of saying ' No.' Marion ! it is a denial." 
And he bit his lip with vexation.* 

" Does it affect your purpose ? " 

" No," and he said it with vehemence. " Yet I will 
wait awhile. Our preparations for a campaign are 
almost complete. When the time fixed is up, we will 
move in any case." 

" Thank you," replied Marion ; " for I would neither 
have my husband flinch from his duty, nor move un- 
der the impulse of passion. I see you are angry." 

"lam; but I can restrain myself, and will. You 
know, Marion, that I am passionate ; and that some- 
times in my heat I say and do things which I repent 
sorely. My only safety is in self-control." 

The weather was more than mild; the morning 
was very inviting, with its cloudless sky, its bounteous 
dews, its bird-music, and its rising sun ; and Bacon, 
to whom the Governor's letter had but just been de- 
livered, had found Marion among her pet shrubs and 
vines. They continued to discuss the offensive let- 
ter, and were still in the midst of serious conference, 
when Bacon suddenly exclaimed, interrupting his 
wife : " Good heavens ! there is some bad news ! 
See how those fellows ride ! " 

There were two horsemen flying across the field, 

* J3urk,II. 163, 164. 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 397 

nearly half a mile distant, as if for dear life, and mak- 
ing their way directly for the house, toward which the 
husband and wife now rapidly directed their steps. 

" It is border news," said Marion, as she took her 
husband's arm : " they come from the direction of our 
upper plantation." 

" I fear you are right, Marion ! If my eyes do not 
deceive me, those are our horses and servants." 

The horsemen were still at top-speed, and in a mo- 
ment more were at the door, with faces pale and ex- 
pressive of the wildest terror. 

" Is it blood ! " almost shouted Bacon, as one of the 
men flung himself from his horse. " Is it blood you 
come to tell me off, Joseph ? Speak, man ! " 

" Mr. Shortridge — and — William — sir," said the 
man in an unearthly undertone, his eyes glaring in 
their sockets. 

« Dead ! killed ! scalped ! Tell me, fellow ! " 

" Dead — killed — scalped — sk — sk — skinned, sir ! " 
answered Joseph, with a desperate effort. 

The husband and wife looked at each other, but 
neither spake : then horror was too great for words. 
The hatchet and tomahawk and knife had come into 
their own precincts, into their own family. The ter- 
rible realities, of which they had only heard as con- 
cerning others unknown, had come home to them at 
last. Their favorite overseer, and a most capable and 
trusty servant, had both yielded life in their service, 
and under the most devilish tortures. 

Pale with grief, passion, and horror, Bacon took 
the hand of his wife and led her within their dwell- 
ing. " Marion ! " said he, in a hollow voice, the mo- 
ment they were alone, " as sure as there is a God in 

34 



398 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

heaven, I will protect — yes ! I will revenge — mine 
own ! " 

Marion did not sink upon her couch. She did not 
tremble. She looked as sternly, as resolutely at her 
husband, as he at her. There was only a slight quiver 
upon her lip as she said, in a whisper, " In the name 
of the widow's God, go ! " 

Quietly they gave each other one brief, mute em- 
brace, — Bacon turned, and was gone. The door 
was shut, and there was a prayer for him offered 
there, to Him who seeth in secret. 

It required yet a few days to perfect the necessary 
preparations for a wilderness march, and to collect the 
people ; and on the 20th of April, the young general, 
at the head of eager men, commenced his expedition.* 
The news of this movement was received before long 
at Jamestown ; for Bacon, upon starting, had de- 
spatched different messengers to the Governor, signi- 
fying that he had considered Sir William's letter as 
containing, by implication, a promise of his commis- 
sion, which he now begged might be hastened, as 
emergencies had compelled his march. Bacon had 
jealous rivals in the Council, — men who feared an 
eclipse under the greater light of his splendid talents ; 
" for though he was but a yong man, yet they found 
that he was master and owner of those induments 
which constitute a compleat man (as to intrinsicalls), 

* T. M. says that Bacon's force was three hundred men when they 
met for consultation on what I have supposed to be about the 1st of 
the month ; and implies that the same number commenced the expe- 
dition. Burk states the number at six hundred, and refers to Ancient 
Records. 



THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 399 

wisdom to apprehend and discretion to chuse." Berke- 
ley was already sufficiently jealous of him, " as he ap- 
peared popularly inclined " ; and it was therefore no 
difficult matter for his advisers to excite him to ex- 
asperation. In consequence of their cabals, the Gov- 
ernor, on the 29th of May, issued a proclamation, 
declaring that all who had joined the expedition of 
Bacon, and " who should not return within a limited 
day," should be regarded as rebels ; and forces were 
raised " to reduce him to obedience, with which Sir 
William advanced from the Middle Plantation [now 
William sburgh] to find him out, and, if need was, to 
fight him." 

This demonstration of the Governor had such 
effect, that Bacon was deserted by " those of estates," 
they being fearful of confiscations, and his company 
dwindled to fifty-seven men ; with whom, however, 
he resolutely proceeded to prosecute his mission.* 



* T. M., 11. The Burwell Narrative, though seemingly describing 
the whole number who rallied around Bacon, probably intends the 
number remaining after this defection, and states it at " seventy or ninety 
persons." The statement of T. M., however, was on the authority of 
Bacon's own lips. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

'76, JULY FOURTH. 

i P7A " ^ HE -^ on § Parliament " of Virginia — the 
Assembly elected in 1661, and still in exist- 
ence — consisted almost altogether of men who had 
but little sympathy with the masses. They were 
chiefly royalists who had fled from England at the 
downfall of Charles the First ; had received the pro- 
tection and generous hospitalities of the Virginians ; 
had become proprietors of large landed estates ; and 
were conspicuous for their education, their wealth, 
and their courtly manners. They were of that class, 
significantly English, who arrogated to themselves 
aristocratical distinction, official power, and enor- 
mous emoluments, as a birthright. Hence, with the 
Governor's connivance, they had retained the reins of 
government, which had been intrusted to them only 
for the brief term of two years. Attached to the 
usages and exclusive privileges of monarchical so- 
ciety, ignoring the doctrine of people's rights, and 
regarding popular liberty as a usurpation, they had 
trodden in the dust the hard-earned privileges of an 
enfranchised province, and driven the rowels deep 
into the quivering flesh of the people. 

From this class Sir William Berkeley raised the 
forces with which he went " to find out Bacon, and, 
if need was, to fight him." He had advanced, how- 



'76, JULY FOURTH. 401 

ever, only thirty or forty miles in the direction of 
the James River Falls, when the noise of the people, 
as the noise of many waters, reached him from the 
counties in his rear. They were in arms. They had 
cast off all deference for the authority of the govern- 
ment, and acknowledged only the decrees of then- 
leaders. Retracing his steps, and entering James- 
town, the Governor found it " almost entirely de- 
serted," and himself with scarcely more than the 
shadow of authority. With no small degree of con- 
sternation, he found that Bacon was not the only 
insurgent leader, that the spirit of revolution had 
pervaded almost the whole colony, and that men of 
consideration and influence, without concerting with 
the young general, had placed themselves at the head 
of a resolute people, in open and organized revolt. 
The popular voice was strong, stern, and distinct. 
It recited the complaints set forth by Bacon in his 
Declaration, and demanded the immediate disman- 
tling of the frontier forts, and the dissolution of the 
Old Assembly. The Governor, upon examining his 
position, found himself without power to resist, and 
was obliged to sacrifice his pride and yield. The 
demands were of necessity complied with, and writs 
were issued for the election of a new Assembly. The 
people of course elected such as shared in their griev- 
ances, and would insist upon redress. They paid no 
regard to the law which prescribed that only free- 
holders should be eligible as Burgesses. 

Bacon, without effecting anything against the hos- 
tile Indians, who warily fled into the remote for- 
ests as he advanced, returned home, and was soon 
after " unanimously " elected a Burgess from Hen- 

34* 



402 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

rico, his own county, although he was a proclaimed 
rebel. 

The Assembly was to meet on the 5th of June, 
and Bacon embarked seasonably in a sloop for James- 
town, accompanied by twenty or thirty armed men. 
Anchoring before the town, he proceeded — un- 
known, it would seem — to the house of Mr. Law- 
rence, a man of repute, and " popularly inclined," to 
reconnoitre, and ascertain whether he might with 
safety appear openly. In the mean time, as a pre- 
cautionary measure, he had stationed a part of his 
men in concealment on shore, but within call. A 
clergyman, to whom his person was known, saw and 
recognized him, and reported his arrival and the pres- 
ence of his soldiers to the Governor, who immedi- 
ately ordered the alarm beat. Of course the whole 
town was in commotion. In the confusion, Bacon 
escaped with his men aboard his sloop. But finding 
his vessel " shot at, was forced to fly up the river " 
with her. Perceiving this movement, Berkeley not 
only sent a long-boat in pursuit, under charge of Cap- 
tain Thomas Gardner, which obliged Bacon to take 
to his own for greater speed, but sent orders to cer- 
tain ships, lying above at Sandy Point, to intercept 
him. Thus beset, and rinding escape impossible 
without bloodshed, Mr. Bacon, after parley and ca- 
pitulation, " quietly surrendered himself prisoner " to 
Captain Gardner, " to the great satisfaction of all his 
friends." By Gardner he was transferred to the cus- 
tody of Major Hone, the High Sheriff of James- 
town.* 

* " Strange News from Virginia," though in the main not reliable, 
affords a clew to the seemingly differing accounts of Bacon's visit and 



'76, JULY FOURTH. 403 



Bacon's surrender without resistance had a pacify- 
ing influence upon Sir William, which partly explains 
" the surprising civility " with which he accosted his 
prisoner. 

" Mr. Bacon ! have you forgot to be a gentle- 
man ? " 

" No, may it please your Honor." 

" Then I will take your parole " ; and he immedi- 
ately set him at liberty, " without confining him either 
to prison or chamber," but the men who had accom- 
panied him were put in irons. These occurrences 
seem to have taken place on the 4th of June. 

" The next forenoon," the Burgesses, having assem- 
bled and organized, were summoned to meet the Gov- 
ernor and Council. Sir William addressed them par- 
ticularly upon their Indian affairs, protesting, " with 
a pathetic emphasis," against the slaughter of the 
chiefs at the Piscataway fort, Colonel Washington 
and his associate commander both being present 
members of the House. 

" If they had killed my grandfather and grand- 
mother," exclaimed the indignant knight, " my fa- 
ther, and mother, and all my friends, yet if they had 
come to treat of peace, they ought to have gone in 
peace." 

arrest given by Beverly and The Keview Breviarie in Burk, II. 251. I 
think the three not inconsistent, and have accordingly blended them all 
in the text. T. M. says that the arrest took place while Bacon was yet 
on his way down the river to Jamestown. That this writer, as Camp- 
bell observes, "was a Burgess present in Jamestown about the time of 
Bacon's capture," hardly justifies a reliance upon his very brief state- 
ment of these occurrences as "the more probable"; for, as T. M. him- 
self says, the arrest took place before his own arrival. The Burwell 
Narrative contradicts all the others. 



404 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

On the next Saturday, the 10th of the month,* the 
Council and Burgesses being again in joint conven- 
vention, the Governor rose and said : " If there be joy 
in the presence of angels over one sinner that repent- 
eth, there is joy now ; for we have a penitent sinner 
come before us. Call Mr. Bacon." 

Bacon then made his appearance, and, bending 
upon one knee before the Governor, read and deliv- 
ered to him a paper, in which he confessed his de- 
parture from duty in raising an armed force, begged 
pardon for his offence, and " promised, upon the word 
and faith of a Christian and a gentleman, that, upon 
such pardon granted, he would demean himself duti- 
fully, faithfully, and peaceably to the government and 
laws of the country." 

A short silence followed the reading of the paper, 
when the Governor replied : " God forgive you ! I 
forgive you, — I forgive you, — I forgive you ! " 

" And all that were with him ? " asked Colonel 
Cole, one of the Council. 

" Yes," replied Sir William, u and all that were 
with him." 

This seems to have referred more particularly to 
those who had accompanied Bacon to Jamestown, 
and who were then in irons. 

" Mr. Bacon ! " added the Governor, " if you will 
live civilly but till next Quarter Court, — but till next 
Quarter Court, — I will promise to restore you again 
to your place there," — pointing to his vacant seat 

* I assign this occurrence to the 10th of the month, because Cotton's 
Account and the Burwell Narrative do, and because Bacon's paper was 
dated on the ninth. It may be found entire in Campbell, 84. T. M. 
seems to say that it was read on the fifth. 



'76, JULY FOURTH. 405 

in the Council, from which, by his attainder, he had of 
course been deposed. The Governor, however, was 
more rapid in his act, than in his promise, of grace ; 
for Bacon was reinstated in his seat that very after- 
noon.* 

These occurrences took place on Saturday, and 
Bacon, " as credible report said," was promised that 
he should receive a commission against the Indians 
on the next Monday. The joy of the people was 
great, and the whole town rang with acclamations.! 

It was fortunate that this reconciliation took place 
when it did, for the bruit of Bacon's arrest, and that 
of his companions, had reached the upper counties, 
and the people were hastening thence in fearful ex- 
citement, vowing " double revenge " for all wrongs 
done to their favorite or his men. A large number 
of them, indeed, had reached Jamestown ; " but find- 
ing Bacon restored to his place in the Council, and his 
companions at liberty, they returned home satisfied." J 
Two or three days after Bacon's restoration, and when 
every sign of popular irritation had disappeared, the 
Governor refused to sign the promised commission. § 

* " The Governor, knowing- that he had gone a step beyond his In- 
structions in having suspended him, was glad to admit him again of the 
Council." — Beverly, 70. 

t Breviarie in Burk, II. 251. T. M.'s Account, 12, 13. Cotton's 
Account, 5. Burwell Narrative, 12. 

t T. M., 15, 16. 

§ T. M., 16. Burwell Narrative, 12. Burk (II. 168) says that " Berke- 
ley positively contradicted " the report that he had promised a commis- 
sion, and cannot believe that one of such "nice principles of honor" 
could have been guilty of " a direct falsehood." Bacon, however, had 
an equally nice sense of honor. I think the writer of " Strange News," 
though a railing accuser of Bacon, throws light on this delicate point. 
He says : "A commission was partly promised him to be general against 



406 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Mr. Lawrence, to whose house Bacon went when 
he first came to Jamestown, was a gentleman of tal- 
ents and sobriety, " nicely honest, affable, without 
blemish in his conversation and dealings," and had 
received an education at Oxford. His house was a 
place of public entertainment, and a rendezvous of 
men of high standing ; for his accomplishments and 
his " even temper " were attractive to persons of all 
ranks. Constitutionally, and by education, he was 
of a kindred spirit with Bacon, and also shared openly 
in his political sympathies, having been a leader of 
the people in the late revolt in the lower and middle 
counties. He was now a member of the House of 
Burgesses. He and Drummond — a Scotchman, and 
lately the Governor of North Carolina, and also a * 
resident in Jamestown and a Burgess — had just 
been publicly denounced by Berkeley to the House 
as " two rogues of whom they should beware." Ba- 
con, therefore, was naturally drawn into intimacy and 
friendship with Lawrence, and now found lodgings 
in his house. The elder Bacon, as a member of the 
Council, had peculiar facilities of information during 
the present crisis of his nephew's affairs, and had 
labored indefatigably in his behalf. It was by his 
hand that the recantation of the latter had been 
drawn up, and through his influence and earnest 
entreaties that it had been reluctantly signed and 



the Indian army ; but upon further inquiry into his affairs, it was not 
thought fit to be granted." Probably tbis was the exact truth, and that 
the partial, and perhaps equivocal, promise was honestly and fairly 
understood by Bacon as absolute. That Berkeley, while avoiding a 
literal promise, intended it as an anodyne to Bacon and his partisans, 
is strongly indicated by his subsequent behavior. 



'76, JULY FOURTH. 407 

published.* To him the young patriot naturally 
went to vent his chagrin and indignation, when he 
found that the Governor would balk him of his com- 
mission. He was peculiarly irritated by his disap- 
pointment, having just heard of fresh murders com- 
mitted by the Indians. The old gentleman sympa- 
thized with him in his peculiarly trying position, and 
shared his anxieties for his family so exposed upon 
the very precincts of war ; but he also succeeded in 
imparting something of his own cooler deliberateness. 
The young man was at length persuaded to curb his 
wrath, and, for a day or two at least, to wait the 
course of events. The elder promised to watch care- 
fully every movement'which might concern the latter ; 
and thus they parted. But the young man had hardly 
composed himself to sleep that night, when he was 
roused by his kinsman and Lawrence. 

" Up ! up, my son ! " said the old gentleman, spoil- 
ing a very promising dream about Marion. 

As Bacon woke in confusion, he continued : w I 've 
near been the death of you, keeping you here, — God 
forgive me ! The place is too hot for you, boy ! 
Arise, and flee for thy life ! " 

" Then there is treachery ! " grumbled the young 
man, as he adjusted his dress. " I suspected as 
much." 

" And so did I, Nathan ael, when we talked to-day. 
But I would not disturb you with my thoughts. 
They put me upon the scent, though ; and here I 
am to warn and speed you."f 

" Well, let me know what it is." 

u There is no time to spare. The Governor's 

* T. M.'s Account, 15. t T. M., 15, 16. 



408 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

seeming grace was all to throw dust in our eyes, 
and quiet the people." 

" The old, treacherous villain," interposed Law- 
rence, " took you into the Council again to keep you 
out of the House, as well as to quiet the people." * 

" No matter what he did it for, my son," said the 
elder Bacon, impatiently. " We can read his policy 
well enough, now we have got at his intentions. 
You will probably swing on a gallows, if you don't 
get into your boots quick." 

" Ha ! well, let him catch me!" 

" He will be about it quickly," said Lawrence. 

" He is about to sign — perhaps has already 
signed — a warrant for your arrest ; means to raise 
the militia to keep away your friends, and then to 
stretch your neck. Come, come ! hasten ! " f 

" Ready, uncle ! You will hear of me again, — 
and so will he. My dear sir, your blessing ! " and 
he threw himself upon his uncle's neck. 

"God bless you, my boy, and guide you ! " ex- 
claimed the old gentleman, returning his embrace, 
and a tear or two rolled along the furrows of his 
cheek. " Commend yourself to God, Nathanael ! as 
I do. Take heed to your spirit; I can trust your 
honor. Be off!" 

With one more hurried embrace, the young man 
turned, and was passing the door. 

" Here, you young Jehu ! come back. What a 
forgetful old fool I am ! doing so much blubbering," 
— and he wiped his cheek, — " that I have n't my 
thoughts about me." 

He had been fumbling first in one pocket, and then 

* T. M., 15. t T. M., 16. 



J 76, JULY FOURTH. 409 

in another, while the young man stood patient and 
wondering. 

" Here, here it is !'" he exclaimed. " You may- 
want it," — putting a small purse of gold into his hand, 
— a coin rarely seen in the colony. u Go along ! 
Clap your spurs hard ; go right to Marion, and when 
you find her, mind her. Here, stop ! " catching him 
by the arm, and whispering in his ear. " I tell you, 
boy, she J s — she 's got an interest up above ; and 
you 'd better use it. These women are great at pray- 
ing. It 's their way of making up with the men for 
eating the apple. Hurry, hurry, boy ! What are 
you lagging for? Go along, go along! God — 
bless — you ! " 

" Lawrence ! " said Bacon, as they crept softly out 
into the darkness, " comfort the good old man for my 
sake. He will miss me, and be afraid for me. I 
shall contrive that you hear from me, you may de- 
pend, and that without writing or sending word. It 
is the sword now, Lawrence ; the scabbard 's gone ! " 

" Rally your men, Bacon ! Come back and make 
your terms. Drummond and I will be putting things 
in train. Here 's your horse, — this way." 

They were now beyond the suburbs, and behind 
a clump of bushes stood a horse, tied and ready for 
service. 

" He 's fresh and strong," continued Lawrence ; " and 
the fellow who led him here knows not for whom or 
what. Mount!" 

" We meet again soon, Lawrence ! " and, giving to 
his friend his hand, he sprang into the saddle, and 
was quickly over the neck which joined the peninsula 
to the country. 

35 



410 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" A noble fellow ! " said Lawrence, after listening 
until the sound of the hoofs had died away, "and in 
a worse condition than I, when Sir William dealt me 
law ; for Lawrence's land will hardly weigh in value 
against Bacon's life. It may be, most worshipful 
Governor ! that, what with his spirit and talent and 
by-play, you may yet do penance for false judgment 
against me."* 

At daybreak, Lawrence's house was entered by the 
Governor's officials, and thorough search was made 
upon the premises for the young Defender of the 
People. So narrowly did he escape the machinations 

of his mortal enemy. 

***** 

" The solemn promise at the bar of the House was 
made in all sincerity and good faith, Marion ! It was 
my part of a contract ; for I never would have yielded 
the contest, nor would my uncle have urged me to 
yield it, but on the honorable condition that I should 
be commissioned to defend the frontiers. Never! 
never ! The protection of our families was the very 
thing for which we took up arms. Had I yielded 
this point, I should have been a traitor. The other 
part of the contract was refused — when the people 
were quiet. By that refusal it was annulled. My 
promise was broken, — I mean, annihilated ! By 
whom ? By Nathanael Bacon ? Never ! By the 
violator of the contract. To the day of my death I 
would have kept it, had he proved true. And then 
he must plot and prowl about in the night-time, 
when honest folks sleep, to circumvent my life ! 1 

* T. M., 15 ; Campbell, 94. 



J 76, JULY FOURTH. 411 

keep no terms with covenant-breakers ! You see my 
men," pointing out upon the lawn. " They are brave 
fellows, and as determined as I." 

" And now you sweep the frontier ? " 

" No. First the commission ! " And the young 
man's countenance expressed that which would not 
have seemed lovely in the eyes of Sir William 
Berkeley. 

" O, it is sad, sad, Nathanael, to be at strife with 
the ruler of one's people ! " 

" It is, Marion ! But when he is at strife with the 
laws of common humanity, what shall we do ? The 
tomahawk has come to our house already. Shall I 
wait till it strikes you ? till our babe's brains are spat- 
tered — " 

" Hush ! hush ! You make my flesh creep ! No. 
I say as I have said. Defend those who appeal to 
your strong right-arm. But oh! if you might do it 
without seeming rebellion ! " 

" Precisely. Therefore, first the commission. Ma- 
rion ! I ivill have it. I cannot be called rebel then. 
Good by ! Our servants are well armed and watch- 
ful. Sleep in peace, Marion ! " 

Again they embraced and parted. Their interview 
had been sudden, their words few ; for time was press- 
ing, and the little band without were impatient. They 
gave a shout as he reappeared ; and the moment he 
rejoined them, they were in rapid motion, and soon 
out of sight. 

***** 

Three or four days after Bacon's flight, there was a 
great bustle in Jamestown. Lawrence's house was 
thronged with gossips ; the Burgesses — when absent 



412 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

from their chamber — collected in small groups ; men 
who met in the streets looked anxious, and hurriedly 
asked the news ; the women chattered to each other 
from window to window; couriers, every now and 
then, were starting from the Governor's office, " at the 
other end of the State-house " ; and in one by-corner 
a little fellow, who called himself General Bacon, was 
making a sly speech about bloody murders in the 
woods to half a score of urchins in nursery regimen- 
tals. The boys were full of fun ; the women, of won- 
derful stories and wonderful curiosity ; and the men, 
of politics and wise predictions. Bacon's name was 
on everybody's lip ; and everybody but sheriffs, sec- 
retaries, and tide-waiters was wishing blessings on 
his head. News had that day been received that he 
was within thirty miles, at the head of four hundred 
men, infantry and cavalry, on his way to Jamestown. 
Sir William was at once in business, — deep; de- 
spatching orders for militia, and messengers for intel- 
ligence ; receiving reports ; and debating with his dis- 
turbed and divided Council. The next day came ti- 
dings that the young general's forces were increasing ; 
and then there was more gossip in the houses and 
streets, and more writing and talking in the Gover- 
nors apartment. The place of rendezvous which he 
had appointed for the train-bands was at some dis- 
tance ; and he was told, to his vexation, that but a 
few stragglers had appeared. The next day expresses 
from the country came in hourly. Bacon's forces still 
increased, and he was in motion, they said. But the 
York train-bands grew very slowly ; they who had 
mustered did not number one hundred, and were 
sulky, — "not one half of them sure, neather," was 



'76, JULY FOURTH. 413 

reported to Berkeley ; and he had a body-guard of 
only twenty men. The next day Bacon was near ; the 
train-bands were so sluggish in their motions, that 
now they could not arrive in season. Resistance was 
out of question; but the proud old Governor could 
meet the storm bareheaded and alone, and he would. 
A little after noon the insurgent forces were filing over 
the isthmus ; and by two o'clock they had formed, 
six hundred horse and foot, and in good order, upon 
the State-house green. They immediately proceeded 
to take possession of all the avenues, and to disarm all 
in town. About an hour and a half afterwards, — 
during which time the House had entered upon their 
afternoon session, — Bacon advanced between two 
files of soldiers to a point near a corner of the State- 
house, where he was met by the Governor and Council. 

" Here ! " exclaimed the veteran Cavalier, whose 
blood was just now up to youthful heat. " Here ! " 
and he presented his naked breast ; " shoot me ! 'Fore 
God, a fair mark ! " 

" No ; may it please your honor," answered Bacon, 
courteously, " we will not hurt a hair of your head, 
nor of any other man's." 

" Shoot! shoot!" persisted the Governor; "a fair 
mark ! " which he repeated again and again, in great 
excitement. Neither did he add any other words. 

"No, your honor!" answered the young man, be- 
ginning to be infected with the passion of the other : 
" we are come for a commission to save our lives from 
the Indians, — the commission which you have so 
often promised." 

" Shoot ! " reiterated Berkeley, still standing haugh- 
ty and erect, with his breast bared. 

35* 



414 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

Bacon, roused by receiving insulting challenges to 
murder, in lieu of an answer, gave way to violent ges- 
ticulation, and repeated, " No, we come for a commis- 
sion ; and we will have it, too, before we go." 

Without any answer, Sir William turned, with the 
air of a man distracted, and walked, attended by his 
Council, toward his private apartment at the other 
end of the State-house. 

It is recorded that the young general now lost his 
temper, and followed the Governor, with " outragious 
postures," exclaiming : " Damn my blood ! I '11 kill 
Governor, Council, Assembly, and all ; and then I '11 
sheathe my sword in my own heart ! " 

In the mean time, says the chronicler, the Burgesses 
were eagerly looking from the windows upon the 
scene below, when Bacon's body-guard presented their 
cocked fusils at them, crying, " We will have it! we 
will have it ! " Upon which one of the House, waving 
a handkerchief, cried out : " You shall ! you shall ! " 
when the soldiers shouldered their pieces, and stood 
quiet. " Afterwards," it is added, " 't was said, Ba- 
con had given a signall to his men who presented their 
fusils at those gazing out at the window, that, if he 
should draw his sword, they were on sight of it to fire 
and slay them." * 

* It will be perceived that I have not stated Bacon's passionate 
threat of wholesale slaughter, and his private order to his soldiers, as 
facts. They are wholly inconsistent with his uniform character and 
deportment, even under greater provocations. The threat was too silly 
even for a child; and it was utterly at variance with the first words 
which he uttered to Sir William. The threat, and the order to the sol- 
diers, rest altogether, as T. M. himself admits, the one upon the asser- 
tion of his servant, " who in the hubbub got nigh " to Bacon and Berke- 
ley, and the other upon mere rumor. Besides, the Burgesses were 



'76, JULY FOURTH. 415 

An hour afterwards, Bacon entered the chamber of 
the Burgesses, urging that he should have a commis- 
sion, and pleading eloquently, for the space of half an 
hour, the miseries of war and oppression under which 
the people were groaning. 

The House then proceeded with the bill before 
them, ordering a levy of one thousand men against 
the Indians, and appointing Bacon commander-in- 
chief. For a long time the high-mettled Governor 
refused to sign this bill, which, in his view, sanctioned 
an act of rebellion. But the importunity of the As- 
sembly and of the Council prevailed ; so that he 
signed not only the commission of General for Bacon, 
but also a bill " of indemnity to Bacon and his party 
for committing this force, and a highly applausive let- 
ter was writ in favor of Bacon's designs and proceed- 
ings to the King's Majesty, signed by the Governor, 
Council, and Assembly." * 

By this Assembly the people were restored to their 
rights ; and thus one great object of Bacon's move- 
ment was accomplished. Besides making provision 
for the Indian war and its command in accordance 
with the popular voice, they put an end to the mo- 
nopoly of the Indian trade ; they gave to the freemen 
of parishes the election of then own vestry-men ; they 
restored to all freemen the right of suffrage, and the 



more than half of them warm partisans of Bacon, and he knew it. For 
these reasons, — to say nothing of the prolific habits of Rumor in an hour 
of intense popular excitement, — these murderous allegations against 
Bacon may fairly be considered as apocryphal. 

* T. M.'s Account, 16-18; Burk, II. 169; Breviaiie, Burk, 11.251. 
It is instructive to observe how plausibly, yet enormously, the facts in 
this case are perverted on the pages of " Strange News." 



416 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOIVHNION. 

right of taxing themselves in their respective counties ; 
they provided that members of the Council should no 
longer be exempted from taxation ; and curtailed 
some of the Governor's fees. A few days after sign- 
ing Bacon's commission, the uneasy Governor dis- 
solved the Assembly. 

Such were the fruits of the general movement 
among the people, which the young patriot Bacon 
had initiated and propelled by his bold, manly, and 
persistent course, and at the imminent hazard of his 
life, his fortune, and his good name. Through his 
example, and by means of his Declaration, the people 
had been roused., while he was yet in the wilder- 
ness, to demand the suppression of the garrisons, 
and the dissolution of the old Assembly. Through 
his influence, they had taken their stand, in the elec- 
tion of a new Assembly, upon the universal right of 
suffrage and the eligibility of all freemen to a seat in 
the legislature. It was through his influence, there- 
fore, that this remedial legislation was prosecuted, 
and, on the 4th of July,* ratified. On that day, and 
under his auspices, Virginia took her stand, alone, 
against lawless tyranny ; and on the same day of the 
same month, the same spirit of resistance, matured by 
the added wrongs of just one hundred years, once 
more arose, — too well taught to b£ bullied, and too 
stout to be subdued. On the same day of the same 
month, just one hundred years afterwards, and bring- 
ing in her hand the same principles of freedom im- 
perishably embodied by another of her sons, but no 
longer in her childhood or alone, Virginia again stood 

* June 24th, Old Style. 



417 



up, and declared and sustained her independent sover- 
eignty before the world. The Fourth of July in sev- 
enteen hundred and seventy-six was the offspring of 
that other fourth of July in sixteen hundred and sev- 
enty-six. The spirit of Bacon lived after him. The 
influence of his struggle for rational independence 
was never lost. Suppressed indeed, but fresh, it sur- 
vived for three generations. The grandchildren of the 
boys who played revolution in a sly corner of James- 
town, acted revolution on the plains of Yorktown. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

THE INSURRECTION. 

The young General lost no time. His first 
step was to organize the military resources of 
the country. In this grave work he not only mani- 
fested military skill, but statesmanlike sagacity. First 
obtaining the signature of the Governor to a sufficient 
number of blank commissions, he sought for men 
truly competent, and who would at the same time be 
acceptable both to the Governor himself and to the 
people. For this purpose, he diligently asked advice 
and information. Ascertaining that the present com- 
manders of the militia would be willing to serve un- 
der him, with much labor and despatch he drafted a 
list of their names, with which he rilled the blank com- 
missions ; thus confiding the execution of his plans to 
" the first men in the colony in fortune, rank, and in- 
fluence.' ' To these men, in their respective counties, 
he assigned the command of well-armed companies, 
and the duty of ranging the forests, swamps, and 
other places of their districts, in which the Indians 
might lurk for mischief. Thus the whole country 
was at once under organized, authorized, and efficient 
military protection ; and the planters went to their 
neglected fields with a sense of security, and a glad- 
ness of heart, to which they had long been strangers. 
Bacon reserved for himself a different sphere of opera- 



THE INSURRECTION. 419 

tions, — the remote strongholds of the enemy. As 
soon as he had completed his judicious arrangements, 
he placed himself at the head of his men, and made 
directly for Gloster County, the most populous and 
aristocratic in Virginia. Here he paused to disarm, 
in virtue of his authority of military commander-in- 
chief, those partisans there who were disposed to 
embarrass his movements. He then proceeded up 
the river toward the frontier. When he had almost 
reached the head of the river, and was "fitting his 
provisions " for his plunge into the wooded wilderness, 
he was surprised by the sudden arrival of a horseman, 
who rode to his quarters at full speed. He brought 
letters, which Bacon had no sooner read than he 
turned to the two or three who happened to be pres- 
ent, saying, with slight indications of disturbance : 
" Gentlemen, a council, with all speed ! I would 
have every officer present." And he immediately re- 
tired to an inner apartment of his cabin. 

Less than half an hour had passed, when, the offi- 
cers being assembled, he appeared before them, very 
cool in his demeanor, but in his rigid, moody features 
bearing unmistakable evidence of smothered anger. 

" Gentlemen ! " said he, " through letters from Mr. 
Lawrence and Mr. Drummond, I have the honor to 
inform you that your General is a rebel ! He has just 
been so proclaimed by his Majesty's Governor of Vir- 
ginia. Sir William Berkeley is now raising the train- 
bands of Gloster and Middlesex against us ; meaning 
either to attack us in our rear immediately, or to wait 
and fall upon us as we return weary and worn by the 
hardships of our campaign. I submit to you three 
questions : — Will you disperse to your homes, rather 



420 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

than follow a rebel ? Will you follow him forthwith 
against the Indians ? Will you turn and face his 
Majesty's Governor of Virginia ? I tell you frankly, 
gentlemen, that he has gone there in compliance with 
a request from persons residing there." 

The consternation produced by this announcement 
was great. There was, however, but little debate. 
It was promptly decided, that, though the expedition 
against the Indians must not be abandoned, this de- 
sign to cut in pieces the protectors and servants of the 
people must first be dealt with. 

" Such," exclaimed Bacon, now giving way to his 
emotions, u such, gentlemen, I did believe would be 
your opinion. It is mine. We must take care of 
ourselves, or we cannot take care of our wives and 
children. Even now the savage may be prowling 
around some unprotected family, or shedding their 
blood. But if we advance to their defence, or re- 
venge, we may ourselves be crippled by our own 
countrymen, or rather by both assailants, like corn 
between the stones. It vexes me to the heart," he 
added vehemently, " that, while we are hunting the 
wolves, tigers, and bears which daily destroy our 
harmless and innocent lambs, we should be pursued 
in the rear with a full cry, as more savage beasts. 
We will return. Let the order be given for instant 
march." 

The patriot soldiers now retraced their steps, with 
forced marches, " to attack the Governor before he 
could be reinforced." Re-entering first the county 
of Gloster, and finding that Sir William had evaded 
him, the General sent out parties of horse to bring 
before him as prisoners various individuals of whom 



THE INSURRECTION. 421 

he had reason to be suspicious. To these he offered 
a strict oath that they should not molest him in his 
operations against the Indians ; and all who took it 
were immediately set at liberty. Having effected 
this precautionary measure, he turned southward to 
the Middle Plantation, — the Williamsburg of to- 
day, — where he halted, fifteen miles from James- 
town. 

In the mean time, the summons of Berkeley to the 
freemen of Gloster and Middlesex had been obeyed. 
Twelve hundred had assembled on the day and place 
appointed. He proposed that they should pursue 
and disperse the forces of the rebel General. The 
proposal was heard with amazement. Debate arose, 
between the few who had induced the Governor to 
this course, and the rest of the convention. The 
overwhelming opinion was, in substance, that Bacon 
had gone on an important and pressing service 
" against the common enemy, who had in a most 
barbarous manner murthered some hundreds of their 
deare brethren and countrymen, and who would, if 
not prevented by God and the endeavours of good 
men, do their utmost for to cut off' the wholl Collony. 
It was, therefore, against right reason " that they 
should do as the Governor proposed. " But should 
the Generall, after the Indian war was finished, at- 
tempt anything against his Honer's person and Gov- 
ernment, they would rise up in arms with a joint 
consent, for the preservation of both." Having thus 
expressed their sentiments, greatly to the chagrin of 
the Governor and his too sanguine advisers, the 
whole convention "disbanded to their owne aboads," 
enthusiastically shouting, as they moved away, " Ba- 

36 



422 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

con ! " " Bacon ! " " Bacon ! " Berkeley, seeing the 
temper of the counties in which he confided as the 
most loyal in Virginia, and having intelligence of 
Bacon's countermarch, retired crestfallen with a few 
of his adherents across the Chesapeake, thirty miles, 
to Accomac, or " the Eastern Shore." Before his de- 
parture, however, he again proclaimed Bacon a rebel 
and a traitor, on the 29th of July. " Accomac, al- 
though subject to the authority of Virginia, was 
nominally and legally a distinct territory." 

The young General was in a perplexing condition. 
Intrusted by the representatives of the people with a 
solemn and critical mission, he was suddenly obliged 
to defend himself against the civil authority. Thus 
situated, he certainly needed the highest guaranty 
for his own safety, and the highest sanction for con- 
tinuing in arms for the country's defence. This he 
saw, and instantly adopted bold and decisive meas- 
ures. His first act was to issue a manifesto, declar- 
ing his true position as a loyal patriot. 

" Can we," he demanded, " deserve the name of 
rebels and traitors ? we, who are wholly devoted to 
our king and country, who aim only at our country's 
good ? we, who are mustered here, with our lives and 
our fortunes in our hands, purposely and only to sub- 
due those who are at war with our sovereign and 
country ? we, who have never attempted or plotted 
a single wrong to any of his Majesty's subjects, in 
their lives, names, fortunes, or estates ? We point to 
our behavior. What man's house have we plun- 
dered ? What man's purse have we touched ? What 
man's corn, or tobacco, or cattle, have we distrained ? 
At the bar of the country let us be judged. Let the 



THE INSURRECTION. 423 

people be the witnesses. Let them testify against 
us, if they can. Are we not their soldiers ? Where- 
in, — we repeat it, — wherein have we departed from 
peaceable behavior ? On the other hand, who are 
those who denounce us, and would take our lives ? 
and who wear the badges of civil authority ? Some 
of them, at least, cannot boast of their capacity or 
their learning. Some of them came here poor. That 
is no sin. But now they are rich. That is no sin. 
But how did they get their riches, in a country where 
the faces of the poor are ground ? They have been 
office-holders. Ay, and sponges that have sucked up 
the public treasury, which the people have filled by 
the sweat of the brow. Is it not so ? Judge ye. 
What arts, what sciences, what schools of learning, 
what manufactories, have these men promoted ? 

" Our hostile x intentions against the Indians are 
just. We need not prove it. It is written in blood. 
But what shall we say of a Governor — bound, by 
oath to king and God, to be the defender of the 
defenceless — who justifies the malice of the Heathen 
against the homes and lives of Christians ? of a Gov- 
ernor who will not take a Christian's oath against a 
bloodthirsty Pagan, yet will take that Pagan's naked 
word against the Christian ? of a Governor who di- 
verts to his own profit the trade in furs, which his 
Majesty has reserved to the Crown ? of a Governor 
whose trading agents with impunity buy and sell the 
blood of their brethren, by furnishing the Indians, 
contrary to law, with ammunition and fire-arms ? 
Who, then, are rebels against the King and traitors 
to their country ? Sir William Berkeley and his ser- 
vitors, or Nathanael Bacon and his soldiers ? First 



424 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

of all, and now, we appeal to the people ; next, and 
speedily, to King and Parliament." * 

This appeal was immediately followed by a circu- 
lar, addressed to all the influential characters in the 
country, some of whom were of the Council, adjuring 
them by all their regard for themselves, their country, 
their wives, and their children, not to fold their hands 
and be listless lookers-on in the day of public calam- 
ity ; but to come together in so great a crisis, and 
consider how best to protect the Colony from the 
dangers which threatened it, through the bloody pro- 
ceedings of the Indians on the one hand, and the 
irregular actings and hostile designs of the Governor 
on the other. The call of the General was promptly 
answered. On the 3d of August, "a grate conven- 
tion of the people met him at his quarters" ; "most 
of the Prime Gentlemen of those parts, whereof some 
were of the Councell of State." 

Bacon addressed the convention at length, and with 
great eloquence ; urging them to devise some expe- 
dient to secure the country both against Sir William 
and the Indians ; and reminding them, that neither 
reason nor common sense required that he and his 
soldiers should march against the savages, without 
assurance " not to have their throts cut when they 
should return home, by those who had set them to 
worke." 

First of all, it was declared by the convention, that 
Sir William Berkeley, by his withdrawal from the 
territory of Virginia to Accomac, had abdicated the 
government ; that therefore it was vacant ; and that, 

* Cotton, 6 ; Burwell Narrative, 15. 



THE INSURRECTION. 425 

by all usage, it devolved upon the Council and the 
people to supply the vacancy, until the king's pleas- 
ure should be known.* 

Next, it was resolved that a covenant should be 
drawn and subscribed by the whole country, under 
the solemnity of an oath, comprising the following 
particulars: — 1. To aid the General with their lives 
and estates in the Indian war.f 2. Not to aid or 
assist Sir William Berkeley in any sort to the molesta- 
tion, hinderance, or detriment of the General and his 
army.f 3. That they would rise in arms against Sir 
William Berkeley, should he, in the General's ab- 
sence, offer to resist him, or to disturb the public 
peace.§ 4. That, should any forces be sent from 
England to support the Governor, they would resist 
them, until the country's cause should be heard and 
decided upon by the Kmg.|| On the last two articles 
there arose great debate, which continued from noon 
until midnight. For their adoption, however, Bacon 
was resolute; urging, with great argument and elo- 
quence, that utter security and protection for himself 
and his army was but reasonable, if they engaged in 
the country's work. He added, also, that, if these 
could not be given, he must surrender his commis- 
sion. 

At this juncture, two items of news arrived ; the 
one, that the Indians had just made a murderous 
inroad upou Gloster County; the other, that York 
fort — the most considerable in the country — had 
just been stripped by Sir William of all its muni- 



* Burk, II. 172. t Cotton, 6. 

% Burwell, 17. § Ibid. || Ibid. 

36* 



426 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

tions of war, leaving multitudes of frightened people 
within its walls at the mercy of the prowling savages. 
Fresh murders, and the robbery of the fort, stimulated 
the convention to a decision. All the articles of 
agreement were passed, concluding with the words, 
" and we do swear, that we will him, the said Gen- 
eral, and the army under his command, aid and assist 
accordingly." It was also expressly declared in the 
body of the engagement, that they did " believe in 
their consciences that it consisted with the welfare of 
the country, and with their allegiance to his Most 
Sacred Majesty." Writs were then issued, in his 
Majesty's name, and signed by Bacon and four of 
the Council who were present, for the election of 
an Assembly, to meet on the 4th of September. 

The General, now having the sanction of the peo- 
ple, and their warrant that he might proceed without 
molestation, once more departed upon the errand of 
mercy and retribution which he had so long been 
striving to accomplish. By his previous excursions, 
the Indians had become aware that the wrath of the 
colonists was aroused, and that a vigorous war was 
at hand. This had occasioned a new combination of 
the various border tribes for offence and defence. No 
sooner, therefore, had Bacon retraced his steps to 
baffle the schemes of the Governor, than they had 
resumed their bloody incursions. To put a stop to 
these was now his first object, and he quickly drove 
them back from the confines of Gloster. They re- 
treated slowly before him, annoying him whenever 
they could without serious exposure, and confining 
themselves to stealthy and harassing operations. 
More or less of them, however, fell victims to the 



THE INSURRECTION. 427 

vigilance and resolution of the General. He also 
destroyed several of their villages, their corn-fields, 
and their granaries. Still they kept on his front; 
sometimes showing themselves, and shouting deri- 
sively beyond gunshot; and sometimes firing from 
ambush upon the advanced scouts, then instantly 
darting away, unseen and scathless. 

Thus step by step, and from point to point, they 
drew the army into the forest depths ; on, and still 
on, from the Pamunkey towns to the Chickahominy, 
and thence still farther into the wilds. They were 
luring the Virginians toward the point where their 
warriors were gathering with overwhelming force, to 
smite the strength of the colony at a blow. And the 
young General and his men followed their lure un- 
consciously, boldly, steadily, eager to avenge the 
widows and the fatherless ; by day, toiling slowly 
along their pathless and perilous course ; by night, 
stretching themselves, wearied but still stout-hearted, 
upon the naked ground. Stimulated as they were by 
the recollection of neighbors and kindred burned at 
the stake or flayed alive, they needed no other incen- 
tive to perseverance, and asked no better fare. At 
length the ambuscades grew more frequent ; painted 
warriors were oftener seen at safe distance, waving or 
shouting defiance ; but still the hardy pioneers pa- 
tiently pushed on whither the foe was gathering for 
battle. Could they have been told beforehand that 
he would have stood at bay, they would have heard 
the news with exultation. But they were destined to 
meet him suddenly, on ground of his own choosing, 
in his full strength, and ravening for slaughter.* 

* Burk, II. 175, 176. 



428 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

There were now strong palisades around the dwell- 
ing at Curie's, — the name of Bacon's residence, — 
sadly marring the beauty of the spot, but necessary 
for safety. These had been erected immediately after 
the murder of Bacon's overseer and servant. The 
laborers upon the plantation used their own cabins, 
which were detached and somewhat scattered, only 
as places for food and rest during the heat of the day. 
Within a very few miles of the boundary line be- 
tween the Indians and the colony, and where the 
population was comparatively scanty, they had not 
the same security against attack which some other 
districts enjoyed under the new military arrangement. 
Consequently, they were ever on their guard ; tilling 
the field under the watch of sentinels, and each work- 
man with his weapons at hand. Before evening twi- 
light, they daily returned in a compact body to their 
master's mansion, which now served as a fort. The 
one passage through the palisades was then closed 
and strongly secured ; and soon after, a watch was 
set for the night. Marion had constituted herself the 
commander and inspector of the place, which was as 
clearly insurrection against the authority of her hus- 
band — for she had no " commission " — as his defen- 
sive behavior, at the outset of disturbances, was insur- 
rection against that of the Governor. She had been 
well informed, from time to time, by her husband's 
messengers, of his embarrassments and his measures ; 
but for a few days past she had received no tidings. 
She only knew, that, not far from Chickahominy 
Swamp, he had struck into the pathless forest, and 
that the Indians were hanging on his march. She 
had her solicitude about him, of course; but it did 



THE INSURRECTION. 429 

not prey upon her peace, for it was sweetly subdued 
and held in check by that Heaven-born faith through 
which many, " of whom the world was not worthy, 
have stopped the mouths of lions, escaped the edge 
of the sword, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to 
flight the armies of the aliens." Her choice things 
she intrusted to the disposal of Our Father. Thus 
she was dauntless and placid, yet full of care and 
vigilance. She felt just as responsible for the safe- 
keeping of her dependents, as though there were no 
Eye which neither slumbers nor sleeps. When they 
returned from the field, she met them at the gate, to 
gladden them with her bright face and her words of 
welcome, to inspect the fastening of bar and bolt, to 
receive the key, to unchain the dogs, to go the rounds 
of the enclosure, and to apportion to each one his am- 
munition and duty for the night. Upon these occa- 
sions, she was always attended by a gray-headed man, 
maimed of an arm, who was sometimes very garru- 
lous about the thundering charges of Cromwell's 
Ironsides. He was always wishing that he had a 
squadron of such fellows in Henrico County. Noth- 
ing ever did stand before them, he said, and nothing 
ever could. By one week's ride, with them at his 
heels, he would have all the infernal savages within 
twenty miles, as easily as a boy would minims in a 
scoop-net. Saved-by- Grace Staunton did not like the 
Prayer-Book. It looked too much like the hand- 
writing of ordinances, he said. If other folks could 
prevail with Heaven by it, he had no objection ; but 
he never could. 

One evening, about the middle of the month, after 
the gate was secured and the servants had dispersed, 



430 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

the old soldier, who was precise in his ways, vainly 
attempted, as he had vainly done a thousand times 
before, to assume a measured martial tread by the side 
of his mistress, as they proceeded around the circuit. 
The short, quick step of the lady pothered him ex- 
ceedingly ; and every few yards his awkward skip of 
a step — to time for once with her — showed how 
much for his comfort it would have been had she been 
trained in the camp, and how much he would like to 
berate her if she were only a man. But Saved-by- 
Grace was as deferential to his superiors as he was 
exact in his locomotion. Besides, he was strongly 
attached to Marion, having been born into the service, 
and under the roof-tree, of her father's family. So he 
stoically shuffled along without a murmur. But the 
privileged old man had talking-matter to his heart's 
content. 

" Why do the heathen rage ? " he exclaimed, as soon 
as the servants were out of ear-shot. 

" You have the same accounts of the Indians, I 
suppose, Staunton ? " 

" Dame Bacon ! of a surety they come up like the 
frogs of Egypt." 

" What can be their purpose ? " 

u The Lord only knoweth the hearts of men. I did 
think that they would pay us a visit. But they have 
some other plan, I fear." 

"You fear!" 

" I should like a brush with them." 

M But not around our house, Staunton ! " 

" And why not ? Marion Bacon is not afraid ; and 
it would be the most convenient place for me." 

" No, Staunton, I am not afraid ; and should they 



THE INSURRECTION. 431 

come, I think I should do my duty. But I shall not 
entice them, nor pray for their coming." 

" I should be glad of their coming, for the sake of 
their scattering. I remember Mr. Shortridge and 
William." 

" But you said they have some other plan. What ? " 

" I do not know, dame. But since they have be- 
gun to show themselves more within a day or two, I 
find they have a fort." 

" Where ? " 

" On Crooked Run, about two miles and a half — 
peradventure three miles — from here ; and there are 
some hundreds of them there, at least." 

" How do you know this ? " 

" By my eyes." 

The lady looked up in astonishment ; and her coun- 
tenance plainly expressed displeasure. 

" Dame Bacon ! a garrison should always send out 
scouts for intelligence of the enemy. It is as impor- 
tant as any practice in war, in order to ascertain his 
position, his force, and his movements. It was said 
unto me in a vision of the last night, * Saved-by- 
Grace ! ' And I said, ' Here am I.' And lo ! the vis- 
ion frowned until I did quake exceedingly. Then it 
said : ' Sirrah ! thou art a lazy scoundrel. Thou lov- 
est ease, when the enemies of the Lord are round 
about. Gird up thy loins. Search out their hiding- 
place, and bring word unto thy mistress. Albeit, the 
Lord will give thee the souls of those in thy keeping.' 
And so it was, dame, that I conferred not with flesh 
and blood, that is, with you ; for I must be obedient 
unto the vision, as I was this day." 
" At the peril of your life." 



432 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" Which is safe, and at your service." 

" You have done wrong, Staunton. But how did 
you go, and what did you discover ? " 

" Good dame ! as for the manner of my going, for 
the most part, after I had gained the woods, it was on 
my hands and knees, — I mean, on my knees and 
hand, — though ofttimes I was fain to crawl like a 
snake." 

" It is a wonder you were not shot and scalped." 

" The devils were like grasshoppers, but the Lord 
suffered them not." 

"Well?" 

" I could not judge nicely of the distance, for I 
never reconnoitred before after such a fashion. But 
to judge from the time and by the feeling of my 
limbs, I should say a dozen miles, only I know better. 
It is about three. They have a strong stockaded fort, 
and it stands on a height overhanging the creek. 
They have a great gathering there. I should think 
they must be expecting their master." 

"Their master!" 

" Called Apollyon, sometimes, dame ! " 

Such was all, of importance to our narrative, which 
passed at the time between Marion and her lieuten- 
ant. The little family garrison was scrupulously in- 
spected, as usual; the evening meal was eaten in 
peace ; and the evening offering of prayer was ren- 
dered ; when all retired to rest, save those on guard, 
and the lady, who sat musing by the window till the 
moon went down. 

The morrow brought a new state of things at 
Curie's. The first incident which attracted the atten- 
tion of Marion was a commotion in the dog-kennels. 



THE INSURRECTION. 433 

The animals, about the middle of the forenoon, sud- 
denly grew uneasy, starting, growling, and in a very 
short time howling and frantic. Marion knew at 
once that there was some sufficient cause for appre- 
hension ; and though she could neither see nor hear a 
single other token of danger, her mind immediately 
reverted to the strange increase of Indians in the 
neighborhood, and to their new garrison on Crooked 
Run. She had no doubt the mastiffs had detected 
some hostile movement on the part of the savages, for 
whom the creatures had a trained antipathy. Nor 
was she long in suspense, for she soon perceived her 
servants at this unusual hour returning from the field, 
evidently for refuge. Saved-by-Grace, for reasons 
which he had not chosen to communicate, had that 
morning gone out with them, and was now marching, 
with his best military air, at their head. The old sol- 
dier had for weeks kept them under daily drill, and 
had not only trained them to certain evolutions adapt- 
ed to repel attack both in field and fort, but to a reg- 
ularity of tread which was his special pride and de- 
light. In his best style, he now wheeled them in 
front of the gate just as it was thrown open by a stout 
wench whom her mistress had sent for the purpose ; 
nor did he suffer them to break up their array until he 
had led them with due precision to the usual point 
within the inclosure, when they were dismissed in 
true military form. Marion was impatient under the 
Roundhead's formality ; but nis duty as a commander 
over, he came directly to report to his superior. With 
a stiff military salute, he announced : " There is a 
noise, Dame Bacon, in the camp of the Philistines, — 
a noise as of many rushing to battle. The Lord hath 

37 



434 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

raised up some avenger of blood, and sent him forth 
to execute judgment." 

" Staunton ! your words are fitter for a conventicle 
than for a camp. Drop the Puritan twang, if you 
can, and say in swift Saxon wjiat the matter is. 
What did you do at Worcester and Marston Moor ? 
Quote Scripture ? " 

" Fought." 

" And now?" 

" Report." 

"What?" 

" Fighting." 

"Well; where? who? — " 

" Crooked Run." 

a _ what do — " 

" Indians." 

" — y ou know ? " 

" Hear firing." 

w Is that all you know ? " 

" All." And the old disciplinarian made a motion 
as if he would have said, " Hark ! " 

Marion now listened, and could faintly hear the 
irregular and incessant rattle of distant fire-arms. 

" Certainly, there is fighting. Staunton ! it must 
be General Bacon." 

" General Bacon." 

" Do you think so truly ? and is — " 
" Truly." 

« _ it at the Indian fort ? " 
" The fort." 

Marion was much moved ; for she had now no doubt 
that Bacon had made his way across from Chicka- 
hominy Swamp, and doubtless on the track of the very 



THE INSURRECTION. 435 

Indians who had so strangely and numerously infested 
the neighborhood. 

" What shall we do, Staunton ? " 

" The God of battles, verily he — Nothing." 

" At least we will see that everything is in order for 
defence, lest there should be need. Come." 

As she said so, and turned to go, the old martinet 
dimly smiled ; but the quick eye of Marion saw it. 

" You are amused, Staunton." 

No answer. 

" Loose your tongue now ; — a little, Staunton, 
only a little. What amuses you ? " 

" That you are so good a general, dame." 

"A- general! How?" 

" A good general never takes anything for granted 
which he can see to himself. Howbeit — " He hesi- 
tated ; but at a sign from the lady, added : " Every- 
thing is in order, dame, so far as I could have it. 
But we shall have no need of fighting." 

"Why not?" 

" Should the General be worsted, he would retreat 
hither, and there would be fighting here. But he will 
not be. The Indians will be routed, and this is al- 
most the only direction in which they will not flee." 

" You are probably right. Still I shall see to the 
priming of every gun." And she did. She inspected 
every weapon, every powder-horn, every bullet-pouch ; 
and by her coolness and cheerfulness, without a single 
exhortation, infused every servant with the spirit of 
" do or die." 

" Golly ! " said an African, black as ebony, " dem 
brak debbils no scare my missus ! Dey better shut de 
white ob de eye where she be ! " 



436 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

" What did you say, Cato ? " for Marion had partly 
overheard. 

" Cato no say, missus ! him tink." 

" And you think you are afraid ? " 

" Golly, missus ! nebber, nebber ! Cato be cussed 
shame nigger when him catch 'fraid 'fore missus ! " 

The forenoon passed away, but the dull report of 
guns was still heard at intervals. The strife was evi- 
dently protracted ; and notwithstanding all her efforts 
at self-control, Marion was conscious of anxiety to a 
degree which was becoming painful, especially when 
she caressed her babe and coaxed out its unpractised 
smiles. But she was soon relieved. About three 
o'clock two horsemen approached at a round trot, and 
halted before the gate. It devolved upon Saved-by- 
Grace to meet them, which he did, and, after a mo- 
ment's parley, gave them admission. They bore the 
marks of hard fighting ; and one of them was in a 
condition which required both lint and restoratives. 
They had been despatched by Bacon, from whom 
they brought a verbal message that he was near, and 
should soon be at Curie's. They also gave an account 
of the long and desperate fight, which had ended in 
the complete rout of the Indians. It was remem- 
bered long afterwards as the battle of Bloody Run, at 
which the strength of the Indians in that district was 
for ever crippled.* There had been a terrible slaugh- 
ter of them before they would abandon the strife. 

In less than an hour afterwards came in wounded 
men, some having yet strength enough to keep their 
feet or saddles, some transported on litters. They 

* Burk, II. 176. 



THE INSURRECTION. 437 

had been sent forward by their General for the at- 
tendance and repose which they could not have in 
the camp. 

Marion's premises now assumed the aspect of a 
hospital ; and she devoted herself assiduously to such 
surgery as she could contrive. The poor sufferers lay 
scattered here and there, some on the floors of the 
house, some out of doors, some on pallets and some 
on the ground. Marion went from man to man, to 
minister to their relief; and as she kneeled beside 
them, examining and washing their wounds, carefully 
applying lint and bandage, or ministering cordials, — 
all with her own hands, — the rough backwoodsmen 
half forgot faintness and suffering in admiration of 
her precious Christianity, and faltered more ejacula- 
tions to Heaven in her behalf than she heard or 
dreamed off. But when she stood over the litter 
of a half-clad Indian chief, hideous as paint and 
hate and ebbing life could make him, and wet his 
parched lips, and smiled as he woke to consciousness, 
and made appliances to his ghastly wounds, and ad- 
justed his rude couch for his greater ease, and when 
he looked so wonderingly and mutely at this fair min- 
ister of mercy, the scene was worthy of the immor- 
tality which only the pencil of genius can give. Yet 
this was not the whole picture; for at length, but 
unknown to her, in the background stood her hus- 
band, proud and happy, as a successful general so 
young had a right to be, yet prouder and happier still 
as he watched with admiration, but without surprise, 
the Christ-like occupation of his wife. 

A busy, sleepless night it was for both, and few 
were the minutes which they could snatch for conver- 

37* 



438 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

sation, so busy was she with the wounded, and he in 
preparing for an early march. There were many 
prisoners at the fort, and a detachment must be left 
to guard them, while he should proceed with his main 
force, and with all speed, across the James River, to 
chastise the Appomattock Indians, and others farther 
south. Allowing his hardy men only indispensable 
rest, the next day he was again on the march. This 
southern expedition, which he prosecuted as far as 
the banks of the Roanoke, was also successful ; and 
he returned thence "to the head of York River," 
where his presence, for some reasons to us unknown, 
was temporarily required.* But his men had been 
worn by a most harassing campaign, in which they 
had travelled several hundred miles in various direc- 
tions. Such being their condition, and " the Indians 
having been sent packing a grate way from the bor- 
ders," he had dismissed his army to their homes, that 
they might recruit " against the next intended expedi- 
tion," reserving only a few as a resource in any sud- 
den emergency. 

It was now the 9th or 10th of September, when 
suddenly Lawrence, Drummond, and Hansford, who 
bore a commission of colonel under Bacon, appeared at 
his quarters, with the news that Sir William Berkeley 
on the 8th had entered Jamestown in triumph, with a 
force of from six hundred to a thousand men. The 
General had before heard that Giles Bland, who had 
attempted with a force of four armed vessels to sur- 
prise the Governor at Accomac, had failed, himself 



* Compare Burk, II. 176, with Campbell, 91, and note, and with 
Cotton, 7. 



THE INSURRECTION. 439 

and his vessels having been captured, partly by strata- 
gem and partly by treachery. 

u Sir William had us under the guns of sixteen or 
seventeen armed vessels," said Hansford. " Our de- 
fensive means were nothing. We numbered, to be 
sure, some eight or nine hundred men, but we could 
not resist artillery." 

" We had no choice," added Lawrence, " but to 
turn traitors or abandon the place. We chose, and 
advised, the latter." 

The General mused in silence while these and other 
circumstances were related, manifesting neither sur- 
prise nor disturbance. At last he said coolly : " The 
fox must be unearthed. I have only three hundred 
tired men, but they have stout hearts." 

Quick in his action as in his decision, he beat to 
arms, would not wait for reinforcements, but, confid- 
ing in the enthusiasm and tried courage of those 
about him, immediately commenced a rapid march 
toward Jamestown.* 

* Burk, II. 182. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE SIEGE.— THE CATASTROPHE. 

t a „ a The sun was just going down, when, to the 
great consternation of Sir "William Berkeley) 
the arch-rebel was upon him. Bacon, first pausing 
on the height of the mainland to concert his plans, led 
his men along the neck towards the town. Throwing 
himself from his horse, he speedily traced with his own 
hands a line for an intrenchment in front of a palisade 
which intersected the neck, barring farther advance. 
Calling upon his men to lose no time, when a few 
hours of hard labor that night would save them blood 
and life to-morrow, and throwing off his upper gar- 
ments, he seized a spade, and plied his own strength 
to the work. The men could scarcely drag them- 
selves along for weariness when they had entered 
upon the isthmus, and now would gladly have lain 
down upon the marshy ground and slept. But their 
young General had imparted his own indomitable 
enthusiasm, and they forgot their fatigue under the 
inspiration of his example. Every man sprang to 
the work ; the moon shone out to cheer and help 
them; and before midnight they had thrown up a 
breastwork of trees and earth sufficient for their 
present purpose. They then took refreshment, and 
lay down exhausted on the wet ground and slept. 
" My dear aunt!" said Bacon to a royalist lady, 



THE SIEGE. 441 

who, to her surprise, found herself in a rebel camp at 
daybreak f " my dear aunt ! my word for it, I did not 
expect to find you here ! " 

" It 's not with my consent, I assure you," replied 
Madame Bacon, in a tone of resentment. " I have 
no relish for a midnight ride on a pillion with a vulgar 
trooper, and a rebel too " ; and the lady pursed her 
lips and straightened, as though she felt the indignity 
keenly. " May I be permitted to ask what are Gen- 
eral Bacon's commands ? " 

" Dear madam ! Colonel Bacon is now with Sir 
William Berkeley. You will not object to joining 
him, I suppose ? " 

" By no means, most gracious nephew ! So you 
have given me this very odd ride, just to introduce 
me to my husband ! I am distinguished by your 
kind consideration, surely." 

" I protest, dear aunt," taking her hand, in his old, 
affectionate way, " that I had no purpose of bringing 
you here. I wished for some ladies, to effect certain 
purposes of my own, and sent my horsemen to catch 
them ; but your arrest is an accident." 

" I believe you, Nat ; for I never had reason not 
to. So kiss me, and let 's make up. Stop ! I am 
to go to the Colonel, am I ? That 's the condition ! " 

" Certainly you are." 

" Well, then," and the old lady exchanged the kiss 
of peace. 

" And now how long — There ! I forgot when in 
the bargain ! You may keep me here a week, for 
aught I know. Ah, boy ! how is it ? " 

" No, no, aunt," replied Bacon with a laugh ; " I 
take no advantage of that. You meant immediately, 



442 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

and I knew it. It would be dishonorable to detain 
you. As soon as the sun is up, you shall go. Your 
dress might not be perceived from the town, if you 
should go now ; and a shot might strike you." 

" Well, boy ; you know best. I 've no wish to be 
shot, and no wish to sit on this stump longer than is 
necessary." 

" If I had a tent or a chair — " 

"0,1 know all about it ! But now, you young 
rebel, what do you want of women ? " 

" Will you tell the Colonel and Sir William ? " 

" Nat ! do you suppose J can't keep a secret ? " 

" No ; but I wish you to tell them." 

" Do you ! hm — m — m; that depends — The Colo- 
nel I will ; but — but — Sir William ; that depends 
upon what it is." 

" Well, you promise for the Colonel ? " 

" Yes." 

" That will do. You see, aunt, that I have n't 
completed my breastwork." 

" No, I don't see any such thing. I should think 
it was complete enough. Who 'd want to scramble 
over such a tear-my-eyes-out thing as that is ? " 

" Well, it is n't finished, and I must finish it. But 
if I put my men up there to work, they will be shot 
at from the town." 

" It 's likely. You 'd better not." 

" Now I intend that the ladies whom I have sent 
for shall help." 

" What ! up there ? " 

" Up there." 

" Bless my soul, Nathanael ! are you in your senses ? 
W T hat do ladies know about such things ? D' you 



THE SIEGE. 443 

expect ladies to shovel dirt and chop wood ? Besides, 
they '11 be shot at!" 

" Precisely, if you don't prevent it." 

u Me ? Good gracious ! " 

" But you promised you would tell the Colonel." 

« To be sure I did." 

" Well, tell him that I have not finished my works, 
but that I shall do it immediately. And when my 
men are about it, Madam Bray, Madam Page, and 
Madam Bullard, whom you see yonder with those 
other ladies, — all of whose husbands are royalists, 
and in Jamestown, — will be side by side with my 
men. If, then, the Gov — if Sir William chooses to 
fire upon us, he can do so." 

The old lady lifted her hands and eyes in astonish- 
ment, but was silent, and rather grave. She was 
about to reply, when a volley of fire-arms outside the 
trenches made her spring, like a young girl, to her 
feet, and grasp her nephew's arm. 

" Sit still, aunt ! that is, if you like your seat. It is 
a small party which I have sent out to wake up Sir 
William." 

It does not appear, in the annals of the times, what 
precise method the young General adopted to convey 
his kinswoman and ambassadress in safety to the 
town. But that he did so is certain, although she 
compelled him first to submit in all meekness to a 
brisk homily on the folly and peril of rebellion, and to 
an unavailing exhortation to repentance. Soon after 
she had disappeared through the defences of the town, 
he gallantly addressed the other ladies, who stood 
trembling with apprehension, telling them that they 
had nothing to fear, and should be treated with all 



444 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

respect. Then, introducing each to an officer, and 
offering his arm courteously to Madam Bray, he po- 
litely requested her to accompany him. He was fol- 
lowed by the officers with their ladies, — who were 
M mightily astonished at this project," —and all were 
soon distributed along the unfinished breastwork. 
The labor of construction was immediately recom- 
menced on the whole line. As soon as it was com- 
pleted, the officers released the ladies from duty, and 
escorted them to a place of safety. Madam Bacon 
had undoubtedly delivered her message ; for, although 
Sir William had just planted " three grate guns at a 
hundred or hundred and fifty paces," which could 
have easily torn to pieces the crude works of Bacon, 
not a shot had been fired " while these Ladyes white 
Aprons " were visible. " Neather Sir William nor 
the husbands were voide of amazements at this sub- 
till invention. If Mr. Fuller thought it strange that 
the Divell's black gard should be enrouled God's soul- 
ders,* they made it no less wonderful that their inno- 
cent and harmless wives should thus be entred a white 
garde to the Divell. But this is manifest," adds our 
old authority, " that Bacon knit more knots by his 
owne head in one day, than all the towne was able to 
untye in a whole weeke." 

It soon became known to Sir William, that " the 
Gent: women, Bacon's Gardian Angles, was, by 
order, drawne out of danger." He immediately # 
opened a brief fire from the " three grate guns,"f 

* Alluding, doubtless, to the graceless rabble whom Sir William, in 
his straits, had enlisted. 

t So I understand the words, " after a terable noyse of thunder and 
lightning out of the Easte." 



THE SIEGE. 445 

after which he ordered an assault. About seven or 
eight hundred men, in good order, and with every 
show of resolution, marched upon the intrenchments. 
A steady, well-directed fire brought them to a halt. 
" A contest of a few minutes " was sufficient for the 
assailants. Seeing many of their number dead and 
wounded, they turned suddenly upon their heels, and 
fled pell-mell within their lines. The Baconians, 
with loud shouts, leaped from their trenches in pur- 
suit, but were almost instantly recalled by then Gen- 
eral, who feared that so sudden a retreat was but a 
lure to a snare. Some of Berkeley's officers, it is 
said, were frantic with vexation, and with tears be- 
sought their men to rally, — which was doubtless 
true. But it is also recorded, and with equal proba- 
bility, that, even before the sally, " a Collonell's or a 
Captain's Commission" would have been sold by 
those who held them " for a chunke of a pipe." 

Even in Accomac, where no insurrectionary spirit 
had been manifested, the Governor had been met 
with petitions against grievances, instead of offers of 
service, — in short, with a significant coolness, which, 
to one in his situation, was both humiliating and dis- 
tressing. And after he had, " by a sort of miracle," 
captured Bland's armed vessels without a drop of 
blood, he was obliged to levy his forces from the very 
dregs of the people ; and even they were brought to 
his standard only by dazzling promises, — freedom 
for servants, and plunder and confiscations for all. 
Such recruits could not stand before the intrepid 
ardor of men contending against oppression ; and 
the moment they had tested the stern mettle of the 
patriots, they had sense enough to perceive, that, if 

38 



446 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

plunder and confiscation did lie in the distance, 
wounds and death intervened. These they had not 
bargained for, and, finding them in the ascendant, 
declined the adventure. Berkeley had but about 
twenty men who cherished or could even, compre- 
hend loyalty. He was exceedingly incensed at the 
cowardice and worthlessness of his followers, yet 
sternly resolved to brave his enemies to the last. 
But when, on the next day, Bacon planted cannon 
upon his trenches, which he brought to bear both 
upon the town and vessels, his chivalric resolution 
passed only for insanity with his cowardly merce- 
naries, or, at best, for the childish folly of a broken 
old man. They began to show symptoms of mutiny. 
The twenty were willing, if he so decreed, to bury 
themselves with him in the ruins of the town ; yet 
they frankly told him, that, with such men around 
him, a general assault from Bacon — which was con- 
stantly expected — would insure a useless and dis- 
graceful ruin ; and that his life and honor might be 
reserved for better auspices. 

At length the haughty old man bowed his head to 
the tempest ; and, a week after Bacon had made his 
appearance, the royalists silently abandoned the town 
at midnight, re-embarked, and dropped down the river 
twenty miles, where they came to anchor. When the 
morning revealed the flight, Bacon, after some precau- 
tions against a possible ambuscade, took possession of 
the town. He found the houses stripped of every valu- 
able, the cannon spiked, and the streets deserted. The 
position of the fleet indicated an intent to return at 
any favorable opportunity. News came that Colonel 
Brent was advancing against the General from the 



THE SIEGE. 447 

Potomac, at the head of a thousand men. The town 
— in itself insignificant — must be abandoned, for the 
purpose of meeting Brent. It would then serve only 
as a fortress and base of operations for Sir "William. 
For these reasons, it was resolved to lay it in ashes ; 
and on the night of the same day, the smoke and 
glare and flying cinders of Jamestown announced to 
the fleet below that it was no longer a hold to be 
striven for. Two of the best houses were those of 
Lawrence and Drummond. Each fired his own. 
Only the ruined tower of the church, gray with moss 
and draped with ivy, now marks where Jamestown — 
was.* 

Bacon now withdrew to Greenspring, — Berkeley's 
private residence, — where he kept free quarters with 
his men ; partly to give them that rest which they so 
much needed, and partly to watch the movements 
of the fleet. The Governor's house was doubtless 
roughly used — " almost ruined," it was said — by 
men who had certainly been roughly used by him. 
They found there household goods of great value, 
three hundred sheep, seventy horses and mares, — -an 
ample stud, certainly, for the Governor of an impov- 
erished colony, — and abundant corn and provisions, 
besides "two great beasts"; none of which his Honor 
ever saw again. However a nice casuist may regard 
such free living at another's cost, yet when it is re- 
membered that Sir William had just despoiled Law- 
rence's house of all its valuable plate, and every other 
house in Jamestown of whatever was worth the tak- 

* These particulars of the siege and destruction of Jamestown are 
derived from T. M.'s Account, 21 ; Cotton's, 7, 8 ; Burwell Narrative, 
20-26; Burk, II. 176-190,251,252. 



448 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

ing, he had no right to complain of the reprisal. After 
two or three days, rinding that the fleet had weighed 
anchor and proceeded again to Accomac, Bacon re- 
sumed his march. His first business was with those 
of Gloster County who had not yet taken the engage- 
ment agreed upon by the convention at the Middle 
Plantation. For this purpose he issued his sum- 
mons, commanding all the inhabitants to meet him 
at the court-house on a certain day. While this 
business was still in progress, one Captain Potter 
arrived " post-haste " from Rappahannock with infor- 
mation that Brent was advancing rapidly. The 
drums instantly beat to arms, and the General ap- 
pealed at once to the patriotism of his soldiers : " Will 
you meet a thousand men resolved to fight you ? " 
He was answered by an enthusiastic shout, and a 
demand to be led on without delay. This was done. 
When they had advanced three days, — by easy 
stages, that they might be fresh for work, — news 
came that Brent's men had suddenly deserted him ; 
and that he himself "was mightily astonished, say- 
ing that they had forsaken the stowtest man, and 
ruin'd the fairest estate in Verginia." But most of 
them were partisans of Bacon, and the rest had no 
heart to measure strength with the men who had 
just put the Governor himself to flight. And " they 
being (as they thought) more obliged to looke after 
their owne concernes and lives, than to take notis, 
eather of his vallour, or estate, or of their owne cred- 
its, were not to be rought upon by anything that he 
could do or say, contrary to their own fancies." 

The General now returned to meet the Gloster 
men according to appointment, who appeared to the 



THE CATASTROPHE. 449 

number of six or seven hundred. They hesitated, but 
at a second meeting took the engagement. The suc- 
cess of Bacon was now complete. The people's 
rights had been legally restored. The forces of the 
Indians had been so shattered, and their courage so 
completely broken, that they " were never afterwards 
able to make any firm stand against the whites, and 
gradually became tributary to them." The Governor 
had twice fled before the people, and had not a foot 
of land in Virginia on which to stand. Brent's ava- 
lanche had melted away. Even the temporizing and 
tenacious royalists of Gloster had peaceably submit- 
ted. The whole colony was under the authority of 
the young patriot, who was now planning an expe- 
dition to Accomac, the place of the Governor's re- 
treat. 

There was a Doctor Pate in Gloster County, whose 
house had seemed for several days to be an object of 
attraction, especially to the patriot soldiers. Officers 
had been seen so often going to it and from it as to 
excite remark. Soon there had appeared sentinels at 
its avenues of approach, by whom most of the comers 
had been refused admittance. Then it had been ob- 
served, for a day or two past, that both officers and 
soldiers who had approached made no other attempt 
than to exchange a few words with the sentinels, and 
then to go away with an aspect which indicated sor- 
row. Sometimes small parties of soldiers had been 
seen lingering in front of the mansion, and talking in 
subdued tones, whose gestures and attitudes denoted 
a deep interest in something pertaining to Dr. Pate's 
house. No one, during these last days, had had free 

38* 



450 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

access to the premises except Dr. Pate himself, Mr. 
Lawrence, and a Mr. Wading, a clergyman who a 
short time before had been put under guard by the 
General for endeavoring to dissuade the people of 
Gloster from taking the engagement. But during 
the first day of October the sentinels were withdrawn, 
save one, who seemed to be retained more for form 
than for special duty. The house itself had now less 
of a gloomy aspect, for windows which had been 
closed and darkened were thrown open, and there 
were more signs of life and bustle within. But the 
appearance of the soldiery was far otherwise. From 
general officer to drummer, they seemed to be suf- 
fering under some common calamity, — to be over- 
whelmed, not only with grief, but with consterna- 
tion. A day or two afterwards, there was a gloomy 
military parade before the mansion ; a coffin was 
brought from the house and laid upon a bier, and 
men of high rank in the army bore it upon their 
shoulders to the neighboring church, preceded and 
followed by the little army itself, with reversed arms 
and muffled drums. The consecrated house was too 
small by far for the concourse, and every window 
was crowded from without by men striving to see 
and hear the solemnities within. At length the fu- 
neral chant and the funeral prayer were over, and the 
coffin was brought out again and carried to the 
churchyard, and lowered into the grave with the 
usual ceremonies of honor. There were strong men 
there who sobbed, and sunburnt cheeks which were 
wet with tears ; and as the multitude stood there 
with uncovered heads when the last solemn rite was 
performed, a stranger might have supposed that each 



THE CATASTROPHE. 451 

one had lost a father, or a brother, or a bosom friend. 
And yet — unknown and unsuspected by all but those 
necessarily privy to the falsehood — that coffin had 
been laden only with stones ; the mourners had fol- 
lowed no corpse to the grave. 

But there was another coffin. It was very rude, 
because the hands which shaped it were guided by 
affection only, and not by skill. And there was an- 
other funeral, which was very humble, and other 
mourners, who were very few ; for the last service 
which they were performing for the dead must be 
performed by stealth. Their coffin shrouded a body, 
— that of Virginia's friend, — the young General of 
the people, who had been proclaimed an outlaw. 
They must bury him in secret ; else, should the vin- 
dictive Governor recover his power, he would move 
heaven and earth to wreak vengeance on the man, 
though dead, who had so withstood his oppressions. 
He would surely rifle the grave of its trust, and drag 
the bones of the patriot from their sanctuary, to dan- 
gle on the way-side gibbet. Ingram and Lawrence 
and Drummond would balk the malice of the oppres- 
sor. The rude coffin had been taken from the house 
by night. It had been carried, with its sacred treas- 
ure, far away into the green forest, to a wild, se- 
cluded spot, where even the hunter rarely if ever 
strayed, — to a spot which will never be known until 
the day of the revelation of all things. It was laid 
upon the ground by its bearers, beneath the branches 
of the cypress and the oak, just as the sun went down 
on the day of the unreal funeral at Gloster. The 
half-score of heavy-hearted friends dug Bacon's grave 
there with their own hands. Darkness came swiftly 



452 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

in the depths of the woods ; but the wilderness which 
gave a grave to the patriot gave also her torch-wood 
for his obsequies. The grave was finished; the fu- 
neral service was read ; dust was committed to dust ; 
the turf with its adhering coppice was replaced where 
it had grown ; all traces of the work were effaced ; 
and then, beneath the sombre glare of their torches, 
the soldier-friends, on their knees, joined hands over 
the remains of their gallant General, in solemn cove- 
nant never to reveal the place of his burial. " No 
man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day."* 

But Marion ! her grief, her secret consolation ! what 
of those ? Gentle reader, History tells of heroes and 
traitors, but not of widow's tears. God treasures 
those. 

The welfare of the whole colony had long been 
depending upon the sagacity, watchfulness, and en- 
ergy of their General. The load had been thrown 
upon him suddenly. He had accepted it. He had 
borne it, too, under circumstances the most trying, 
both to his moral susceptibilities and his bodily pow- 
ers. His own words affectingly describe the corrod- 
ing indignation of an honorable mind, conscious of 
its integrity : " It vexes me to the heart, that, while 
we are hunting wolves, tigers, and bears, that daily 
destroy our harmless sheep and lambs, we are pur- 
sued with full cry, as more savage beasts." During 

* The critical reader may, perhaps, indulge my supposition of a false 
funeral of General Bacon ; for, dying as he did in the middle of his 
army, it would seem to have been necessary to prevent all traces of 
the real one; and, besides, it seems to be indicated — faintly, to be 
sure — by the very peculiar language of T. M., p. 24, in Force, Vol. I. 



THE CATASTROPHE. 453 

all this time he had had all the responsibility and 
personal care of the country's affairs, both in the wil- 
derness and in the settlements ; for although he had 
his lieutenants in the several counties, upon whom he 
laid important local trusts, yet of none did he ever 
divest himself. On his various exhausting marches 
from the York River to the Roanoke, and during all 
his hours of watching and fighting, he had been con- 
stantly anxious and constantly directing for the secur- 
ity of the interior. And no sooner had he returned 
thither, than he gave himself assiduously and without 
rest to the personal inspection of every military posi- 
tion, and to the yet more arduous work of sustaining 
the unity and confidence of the people. In all his 
marches and countermarches, he had shared danger 
and fatigue with the meanest soldier. He had borne 
at once the hardships of a private, the care and anxie- 
ties of a general, and the burdens of a magistrate. 
He had hardly begun to breathe after his return from 
the banks of the Roanoke, before he was working in 
the trenches at Jamestown, and sleeping night after 
night, and unsheltered, upon the swampy ground. 
To those more immediately about his person, it had 
for some time been evident that these things were 
undermining his strength. Still his zeal, his courage, 
and his toil had continued unabated. But at length 
fatigue, care, and exposure had induced a virulent 
disorder of the bowels, under which nature had 
yielded. 

Through the whole of his remarkable public course, 
he had been governed by no mercenary or ambitious 
motives. Not rashly and in a fit of passion, but de- 
liberately, hesitatingly, reluctantly even, he had been 



454 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

persuaded to move, without official sanction, in de- 
fence of the frontiers. All his aggressive proceed- 
ings had been against the Indians. His attack upon 
Jamestown, and its destruction, had been strictly de- 
fensive operations. He had never manifested rancor 
against the Governor's person, nor a wish to usurp or 
even to supersede his authority, until Sir "William's 
own conduct rendered the latter necessary to prevent 
a state of anarchy. He had staked his life, his for- 
tune, and his good name, and had sought no immu- 
nities but for the people. With a devoted soldiery at 
his command, he had been guilty of no excesses, even 
when flushed with success and tempted by the great- 
est provocations. He was ever careful of shedding 
Christian blood, — in this respect a perfect contrast to 
Sir William Berkeley. At the time when the latter 
was driven from the Middle Plantation, a spy had 
been detected in Bacon's camp, who had repeatedly 
deserted from party to party. He had been tried by 
court-martial, and condemned to death. Bacon pub- 
licly offered, that, if any one man in the army would 
speak but one word in his behalf, he should be saved ; 
and it was not until there was no hope of an inter- 
cessor that he was executed, — the only instance in 
which the young General took life, save what was 
unavoidable in the heat and hurry of battle. When 
Berkeley captured Bland and his vessels, he had pro- 
ceeded instantly to the work of vengeance ; directly 
hanging Captain Carver, one of Bland's men who 
had gallantly " resolved," as he said, " to adventure 
his old bones against the Indian rogues," and reserv- 
ing Bland and others in irons for a like fate. When 
the news of this cold-blooded execution was received 



THE CATASTROPHE. 455 

by Bacon, Sir Henry Chichely, the Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor of the crown, was a prisoner. A word from 
Bacon, and it would have been the knight's life for 
Carver's, — a decree which Sir Henry expected, in 
reprisal for what he himself " exclaimed against as a 
most rash and wicked act of the Governor." But the 
young patriot had not so learned patriotism as to re- 
venge upon Chichely the sin and barbarity of Berke- 
ley. Such had been the temperate and humane 
course of a successful military leader with all power 
in his hands ; a course rarely, if ever, equalled under 
like circumstances and provocations. Happy was it 
for him, that he could take such a review of the past, 
when, in the flood-tide of his fortunes, his spirit was 
suddenly called to give account for its deeds in the 
body. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

REVENGE. 

The spider sat in his Accomac cell. He 
could now shoot out his webs over the whole 
Chesapeake and its tributaries, in whatever direction 
the wind would waft them. The besom which had 
so long been sweeping down his toils — the head, 
the heart, the right-arm of the insurrection — was 
gone. More than a month since poor old Captain 
Carver was netted ! He would spin another thread 
and float it forth ; for he was hungry, — very hun- 
gry : it might entangle something. He did so, and 
the wind bore the messenger across the Bay to York 
River. It caught upon the house of one Colonel 
Reade, which stood where we now find Yorktown on 
the map, and " snapt up," as the chroniclers express 
it, one Colonel Hansford, as fine a young fellow as 
ever lived, — a born Virginian, blithe, buoyant, hon- 
orable, and fearless, — Colonel Thomas Hansford, 
and twenty other hearty patriots, at one swoop. 
They were brought over to Accomac, of course. 
The twenty common ones " were committed to 
prison," notwithstanding " the justifiers " of Sir "Wil- 
liam Berkeley averred afterwards that he hung folks 
because " he had no place of strength to secure 
them." The prime one was for sacrifice. A court- 
martial quickly arranged that matter. There was a 



REVENGE. 457 

little time of grace granted him in his prison. For 
only one thing did he pray to his judges ; " that he 
might be shot like a soldier, and not be hanged like a 
dog." This being denied him, he at once shut his 
eyes and heart to the world, and betook himself in 
his ceil to other prayer, in which he had " an Advo- 
cate with the Father." Having thus intrusted his 
soul, with confession and contrition, he went to meet 
the sentence of those who only have power to kill the 
body. 

" Take notice," said he to the crowd before the 
gallows ; " on the list of my sins before God, rebel- 
lion is not written. I die a loyal subject and a lover 
of my country. I have never taken up arms but for 
the destruction of the Indians, the murderers of so 
many Christians." 

The youthful patriot was swung off, " the first Vir- 
ginian borne that dyed upon a paire of Gallows." 
This was on the 13th of November. 

Sir William Berkeley began to breathe. Such suc- 
cess, on the first effort, was encouraging ; and no 
sooner had Major Beverly, the knight's purveyor, — 
"a parson calculated to the Latitude of the sarvis," — 
" delivered his fraight at Accomac," than he was off 
upon another hunt. There was a little passage-at- 
arms upon this occasion ; but Beverly succeeded, 
and brought back to his master Captain Farlow, 
Captain Wilford, Major Cheeseman, and five or six 
others, Wilford was a dapper little fellow, but he 
had a stout heart, and, in the matter of bearing arms, 
a clear conscience ; so he could afford to meet Sir 
William's vengeance coolly. He had just lost an eye 
in the skirmish in which he was captured ; " but if I 

39 



458 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

were stark blind," said he, knowing the Governor's 
humor for hanging, " he would be sure to furnish me 
a guide to the gallows, for he promised it to me long 
ago for going with the General against the Indians 
without a commission." 

" What made you serve under the rebel Bacon ? " 
asked Berkeley of Cheeseman. 

" May it please your Honor," said the prisoner's 
young and loving wife, giving him no time to reply, 
" /made him." 

" You ! " and Sir William eyed her keenly. 

" Yes, your Honor, it was through my means. I 
proposed it. I urged it. I provoked him to it. He 
never would have done it but for me. I do therefore 
beseech your Honor " — and she threw herself upon 
her knees — u that the punishment may fall where it 
belongs, — on the most guilty. The tempted may 
find grace, but not the tempter. Let him be spared. 
Send me to the gallows in his stead." 

The beauty, the youth, the imploring attitude, the 
self-devotion, the plea, the earnest, tremulous, tearful 
face of the petitioner, drew from the Governor — a 
parley? a relenting doubt ? a pardon? No. Even an 
intercession so noble, so touching, could not move 
him to pity or to admiration. He was iron. He was 
savage. He was aristocratic. He was Sir William 
Berkeley. He knew that what she said was truth. 
But he also saw that, in throttling the husband, he 
should crush the wife. He could have tivo victims. 

He said but little ; but he called her a . It was 

the foulest name for woman. The infamy of the 
moment was his. He sunk his own good name for 
ever by that one libel on a virtuous, interceding wife. 



REVENGE. 459 

But God heard the intercessor. Cheeseman soon 
died, to be sure, and he died a victim, — his life wrung 
out of him by hard usage and want in his dungeon ; 
but both were spared the ignominy of his public 
strangling. 

Farlow died as Wilford did, and so died the five or 
six others. 

Sir William Berkeley had breathed. He now took 
heart. He was so animated by these oblations, that 
he ventured across the Bay himself, chuckling in an- 
ticipation of what his own presence would achieve. 
He did not venture on shore yet, but cast anchor in a 
good offing at Tindell's Point, and sent others ashore. 
But the fortune of war was against them. The first 
thing which happened was, that " thirty men and 
boys," at Colonel Bacon's house, routed " a hundred 
and twenty " men-soldiers whom his Honor sent 
against them. He sent out Major Lawrence Smith, 
too, with six hundred men against Ingram, Bacon's 
successor. The Major ran away, and his men were 
taken prisoners ; but Ingram generously dismissed 
them to their own homes. A party of the patriots, 
to be sure, had been taken prisoners on the south side 
of James River ; but here, on the York, they were 
knocking the royalists about like ninepins. Under 
these discouraging circumstances, the Governor be- 
thought himself of a new policy. He would stoop a 
little, and try the effect of fair words and promises. 
So he wrote several very courteous and even flatter- 
ing letters to Walklate, an associate general with 
Ingram, proposing to both a negotiation for peace, — 
carefully keeping himself on shipboard still. The 
overture was opportunely made. The people were 



460 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

weary of a strife which had so long interfered with 
their industrial pursuits ; for their fields had been 
necessarily neglected and their crops curtailed. The 
supplies for the soldiery could be obtained only by 
arbitrary levies, for which each party plundered the 
other as occasion required or opportunity offered. 
The controlling mind, the moral influence, and the 
sound, effective eloquence, of Bacon were wanting. 
Upon his successors the public mind could not rest 
with the confidence which is necessary to unity, en- 
ergy, and progress. It would seem, too, that these 
officers had come to distrust their own position ; fear- 
ing that, by a dissatisfied people or by aspiring rivals, 
they might be displaced. Thus, we say, it was a 
favorable time for Berkeley to proffer compromise. 
To Ingram, Walklate, and Langstone, another prom- 
inent leader, he offered a full pardon, without any 
fine or other punishment ; they to restore all plunder 
which they had taken from the Indians or the Eng- 
lish. To these terms they readily agreed. But it 
was necessary that the soldiers should be reconciled. 
To this end, Captain Grantham, who had been the 
Governor's medium of negotiation, and who, the sol- 
diers were given to understand, was a friend to their 
cause, arranged for a mediatorial interview. He was 
received with respect, and proposed their surrender to 
the authority of the Governor on the following condi- 
tions : — 1. That those who wished it should still be 
retained in arms to act against the Indians. 2. That 
those who wished it should return to their own homes, 
and receive the pay allowed to them by the last As- 
sembly, according to the time they had been under 
arms. 3. That those of them who were servants 



REVENGE. 461 

should receive their freedom, for which their masters 
should be indemnified from the public treasury. The 
soldiers agreed, on these terms, to surrender their 
arms, and the Governor proclaimed a general am- 
nesty, excepting only certain persons named, partic- 
ularly Lawrence and Drummond. Thus Berkeley 
recovered his supremacy, and the insurrection was 
at an end. 

The stipulations were performed on the part of the 
patriot officers and soldiers. But rank, we know, is 
privileged to overreach the vulgar ; and Berkeley, 
"counting it no sin" — no degradation? — i( to ac- 
cost them, as the Devill courted Eve, with never to 
be performed promises," scattered his to the wind the 
moment he had the soldiers " in one vessill and their 
arms in another." They went " to kiss the Gov- 
ernor's hands," when the servants were instantly re- 
turned to their masters — royalists ? — to serve out 
their indentures ; the rest were made prisoners, or 
taken into the Governor's service, according as he 
judged them trusty or otherwise. This was the first 
step of his Honor. TIiq second was openly and 
practically to repudiate his own solemn promise of 
general amnesty, just so far as caprice, or personal 
pique, or covetousness might dictate. As soon as the 
staff was in his own hands, the order of the day was 
fines, confiscations, and strangling. 

A court-martial was held on shipboard — 
where Sir William still remained — on the 
11th of January, and four men were summarily con- 
demned and executed. On the 20th, Sir William 
was informed that Drummond had been taken the 
day before, half famished, in Chickahominy Swamp, 

39* 



462 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

and was then on shore at Colonel Bacon's house. 
Nothing could have been more gratifying ; for he had 
long, had a special " rancor " against Drummond, con- 
sidering " the Scotchman the originall cause of the 
whole rebellion," — on what grounds, other than his 
pretensions in common with others for the public 
good, does not appear, for he had never borne arms. 
Sir William, under the excitement of this capture, 
now ventured for the first time ashore, and with a 
mock bow accosted his new victim. 

" Mr. Drummond ! you are very welcome. I am 
more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. 
Drummond ! you shall be hanged in half an hour." 

" What your Honor pleases," coolly replied Drum- 
mond, and the interview closed. 

His Honor's threat was not, however, literally exe- 
cuted, in respect to time. The prisoner was imme- 
diately stripped, even of the ring on his finger, and 
otherwise " barbarously treated " ; but he was kept in 
irons until the next day, when he was conveyed to 
Mr. Bray's house, condemned by court-martial within 
half an hour after his arrival there, without legal trial, 
without permission to answer for himself; and within 
four hours after his sentence — being hurried away to 
execution by the Governor's particular order — was 
hung upon a gibbet in company "with a pitifull 
Frenchman," "that had been very bloody."* But 
Berkeley's " private grudge " did not end here. He 
caused his victim's property — plantation and goods 
— " to be given to himself, by his Council," and her 



* There seems to have been something of national antipathy in Berke- 
ley's " rancor " against " the Scotchman." 



REVENGE. 463 

whom he had made a widow u to flee with her five 
small children, and wander in the deserts and woods 
until they were ready to starve." 

" I know not whether it is lawful to wish a person 
alive," said the Lord Chancellor of England, when 
this case was reported to him in council after Berke- 
ley's death, " but if it is, I could wish Sir William 
Berkeley alive, to see what could be answered to such 
a barbarity. But he has answered to it before this ! " 

There were very, very few, throughout the whole 
colony, who had not been implicated, directly or indi- 
rectly, in the insurrection ; hardly a man who was 
not thus obnoxious to the Governor's vengeance; 
hardly a man who did not live in daily trembling 
lest he should be arraigned ; hardly a man who did 
not cast about in his mind for some means of escap- 
ing from a country which bade fair to become a Gol- 
gotha. It was in vain that men " came in and sub- 
mitted themselves upon the Governor's proclamation 
of pardon and indemnity." 'They were at once seized 
by official ruffians, imprisoned, their estates taken 
from them, or saved only by enormous fines ; and all 
without warrant, indictment, trial, or conviction. At 
first, as we have seen, the Governor proceeded by 
martial law. He then attempted, for a little while, 
" to let the laws run in their old channel," — to pro- 
cure convictions by juries. But finding this course 
result in successive and summary acquittals, — u even 
often in a day," says Burk, "by different panels,"* — 

* Bancroft (11.231, note 4) calls this statement "a very ridiculous 
error," — "pure fiction"; and cites Burk, II. 255, 263, in which hitter 
passage the convictions by jury are stated not to have occurred before 
the country was reduced, and after the arrival of troops from Eng- 



464 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

he had recourse again to martial proceedings. Now, 
" none escaped being found guilty, condemned, and 
hanged, that put themselves on trial " ; and so it soon 
came to pass, that this question was always proposed 
to the person arraigned, — " Will you be tried, or will 
you be fined at the discretion of the court ? " The 
unfortunate man, recurring to the uniform fate of his 
predecessors, and perceiving that there was no hope 
through a trial, would discreetly choose to be fined ; 
thus buying his life by sacrificing his estate. And 
this was done " without any jury." 

Fourteen or fifteen had been executed; enormous 
fines and confiscations had been arbitrarily multi- 
plied ; and the jails were filled with prisoners. Such 
was the course of vengeance when commissioners 
and an armed force — to investigate affairs and con- 
trol the country — arrived from England, on the 29th 
of January. They brought with them a royal act of 
grace and forgiveness for all but Bacon. This, to- 
gether with their own commission and instructions, 
they immediately delivered, urging Sir William to 
publish forthwith the king's proclamation of grace, 
that the distracted people might be quieted. 

" I will publish my own," was his reply, " in which 
I will make such exceptions to forgiveness as I may 
think proper " ; and he stifled the decree of mercy in 
his own pocket. 

land. But what is meant by the language of the commissioners, in Burk, 
II. 254 1 " He " — Berkeley — " doubted whether a legal jury would have 
found them guilty. The contrary" — i. e. that a legal jury would not 
have found them guilty — "he was afterwards sufficiently convinced of, 
when he saw, upon the trials had of his Majesty's commission of oyer 
and terminer, that there was not a prisoner that came to the bar that was 
brought in guilty bj the jury." 



REVENGE. 465 

The work of mock trials went on ; the judges, 
without the smallest regard for decorum, and even in 
the presence of the royal commissioners, and " as if 
they had been the worst of witnesses," indecently re- 
viling their prisoners, " both accusing and condemn- 
ing at the same time." Hanging was yet in vogue, 
notwithstanding the royal decree of grace. Bland, 
who had been choicely reserved in chains ever since 
he was entrapped at Accomac, was at last brought 
up for judgment. He pleaded that Sir William 
Berkeley had at that moment his pardon, with the 
royal signature, in his pocket ; and he had, — a spe- 
cial pardon procured by Bland's friends in England. 
But he was found guilty, and hung. " It was talked " 
that this was done on private instructions from the 
Duke of York, afterwards James the Second, who 
had sworn, " by God, Bacon and Bland should die." 
Other executions also took place, until the whole 
number had amounted to twenty-three, — " said in all 
to outnumber those slane in the wholl war, on both 
sides," — when the Assembly, who had met by Berke- 
ley's appointment on the 20th of January, petitioned 
the Governor that he would desist, and " spill no more 
bloud" ; " for none could tell where or when it would 
terminate." 

" I believe," afterwards said Pressley, one of the 
Burgesses from Northampton County, — "I believe 
he would have hanged half the country, if they had 
let him alone." 

By this means, the Governor was at last " prevailed 
on to hold his hands " from further sanguinary pro- 
ceedings. 

The commissioners proceeded, according to their 



466 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

instructions, to hear and determine grievances. They 
received complaints only on testimony of credible, 
loyal, sober persons, moderate, disinterested men, 
whom they enjoined to testify " in such sort as 
might become dutiful subjects, and sober, rational 
men " ; and yet, " even with this caution, the num- 
ber, variety, and enormity of those charges which 
were supported astonished them, and they were at 
a loss to reconcile this assemblage of odious vices 
with the received reputation of Sir William Berke- 
ley." They demanded the restoration of those estates 
which had been unlawfully confiscated without trial 
or conviction, and which were held by Sir William 
and his parasites. He refused ; upon which they had 
the estates appraised under oath, — as also all goods, 
cattle, slaves, and servants so seized, — and exacted 
bonds from the holders to abide the decision of the 
King. 

They also effected a treaty of peace — thanks to 
the military operations of Bacon ! — with the neigh- 
boring Indians, so satisfactory to them, that other re- 
mote tribes sought also to become included in it. 

Lawrence's fate was never known. Finding the 
struggle of the people with the Governor abruptly 
terminated, and himself a hopeless outlaw, he pre- 
ferred to brave any fate rather than that of a public 
execution. Compared with the settlements of Vir- 
ginia, the wilderness might be a better home for him ; 
and the wild men of the woods might be better friends 
than Christians. Compared with death by Sir Wil- 
liam's hangman, death by hunger, or weariness, or 
exposure, or even Indian torture, were preferable. 
He chose a voluntary exile. He was seen upon the 



REVENGE. 467 

extreme border with four companions, all well armed 
and well mounted, making their way through the 
snows for the mountain forests. It was the last 
which was seen or heard of this accomplished and 
high-minded man. 

Sir William Berkeley, leaving the government of 
Virginia in the hands of Colonel Herbert Jeffries, who 
had been commissioned by the King, sailed for Eng- 
land late in the month of April. Upon his arrival, he 
found that the odor of his cruelties had preceded him. 
The commissioners had reported in reprobation of 
his conduct, and it was regarded with horror both 
by the King and his Council. " The old fool," said 
Charles the Second, indignantly, " has hanged more 
men in that naked country than I have for the mur- 
der of my father." Under such reprobation, — ap- 
proved doubtless by the voice of his own conscience, 
— the hoary executioner of men who had only de- 
fended their firesides and resented oppression, gave 
way ; and in July of the same year he sunk into a 
dishonored grave. 

So disappeared the actors in this brief but memora- 
ble drama. 

In what were the people bettered ? They had over- 
awed the savages, but their own choice men were gone. 
Their persecutor was gone also, but his power to tyran- 
nize was transferred unabated to others. The amelio- 
rating laws of the patriot Assembly — "Bacon's laws" 
they were called — were repealed. But the liberal 
Charter for which agents had been sent to England 
in 1675, — what of that? This Charter, providing for 
the liquidation of the claims of Arlington and Cul- 
pepper, barring like grants in future, confirming the 



468 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

land-titles of resident planters, recognizing the Grand 
Assembly of Virginia, investing that body with the 
power of making laws and determining all imposition 
of taxes, save upon exports,. — this Charter* drafted in 
outline, and presented by the Lords of the Committee 
for Foreign Plantations to his Majesty's Council, 
" passed by his Majesty and a full board " of the 
Council to be prepared in form of a bill for his Maj- 
esty's signature, was detained in the office of the 
Seals by secret jealousy and intrigue, until the news 
of the colonial disturbance put it to rest for ever. In 
its stead, the King issued troops and a paltry patent, 
which related chiefly to the judicial powers of the 
Colonial Council and the security of land-titles, but 
making no recognition of the Assembly. By sepa- 
rate instructions, that body was indeed permitted, 
during the royal pleasure ; but it was to be called 
only once in two years, and then was to continue in 
session only fourteen days. The right of electing 
Burgesses was taken from all but freeholders. 

The aristocracy of Virginia was reinstated on the 
backs of the people. The punishments which had 
been inflicted by Berkeley were terrors not soon to 
be forgotten ; and they effectually stifled all murmurs 
against the return of old, and now aggravated, griev- 
ances. Unequal and burdensome taxes were revived ; 
they were fearfully increased by the expenses of the 
insurrection ; they were collected by men whose vo- 
cation it was to extort, and whose emolument it was 
to defraud. They were so laid — by poll — that the 
poor man, paying as much as the rich man, was 
crushed under a burden which he could not lessen, 
because he could not vote. Once more Virginia was 



REVENGE. 469 

under the heel of pitiless power, — of power responsi- 
ble only to a distant monarch, who lolled in the laps 
of courtesans, and flung thoughtlessly to titled beg- 
gars the rights and properties of thousands, for a new 
beauty or a purse of gold. 

How, then, was Virginia bettered by her struggle 
against oppression ? To overawe her spirits, an 
armed force had been imposed upon her soil and 
billeted upon her citizens, and was not disbanded 
until 1682. The Navigation Act, enforced by a frig- 
ate cruiser in their waters, still kept the people poor ; 
the doubling of the Governor's salary, upon the ac- 
cesion of Culpepper in 1680, besides his bonus for 
house-rent and his perquisites, made them poorer ; his 
unblushing rapacity and inventive extortion made 
them poorer still, until tobacco fell to a penny a 
pound, the people lacked the common necessaries of 
life, and it was thought necessary, in 1682, to curb 
their starving restlessness by new executions on the 
gallows. The grants to Arlington and Culpepper 
were not annulled until 1684, when Virginia again 
became a province of the Crown. Still the system 
of exaction and oppression went on, and was unmiti- 
gated. Colonial office was sought by profligate cour- 
tiers, only for the sake of making money ; and the 
British nobleman, too proud and too lazy for honest 
trade, could stoop to wring from his storehouse the 
hard earnings of the planter, to defraud the hireling 
soldier of his wages, to extort exorbitant and even 
arbitrary fees, and to haggle with his own clerks for 
a share in their perquisites of office. Not Culpepper 
only, but his successor, Effingham, and his successors, 
were taskmasters and pickpockets to the planter, 

40 



470 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

while the Crown made him a tributary to the trades- 
man and artificer of London. What did God give 
England colonies for ? To enrich her merchants and 
her nobles, to be sure ! The profit of England was 
— the colonist's chief end. He was made for it. He 
could conduce to it. He must work for it. Such, 
from the beginning, were the axioms of the mother 
country, and they were maintained for a century 
longer, until Virginia, with her sister colonies, had 
disbursed her wealth, and poured out her blood like 
water, in loyalty to the Crown ; until, impoverished 
and depleted as she was, she drew the sword upon 
tyranny, and flung the scabbard away. 

And the struggle of Bacon and his peers was boot- 
less ? Not so. The leaven which they had infused 
remained. It was hidden, but it wrought. The 
tyranny which sought to suppress, only diffused it. 
Even the aristocratic class became afTected, and the 
royalist Burgesses kicked against the goads, even be- 
fore Bacon had lain in his unknown grave a year ; 
and again in 1681 ; and yet again in 1685, so vigor- 
ously, that James the Second told them to stop " their 
unnecessary debates, their unquiet dispositions, and 
their tumultuous proceedings " ; and even alarm- 
ingly did they repeat their behavior in 1688. The 
chains not only cut deep into the flesh of the poor, 
but began to chafe the rich ; and they who could 
savor their banquet with the oil and olives of the 
Mediterranean, the sugar and the coffee of San Do- 
mingo, and the choice wines of Southern Europe, 
grumbled at the convivial board about the overbear- 
ing encroachments of the Crown. Bacon's move- 
ment had indeed taught Virginia a lesson of ven- 



REVENGE. 471 

geance which she long remembered with horror ; but 
it had also given her a relish and a passion for civil 
freedom which she never lost. If we estimate the 
events of 1676 only by their immediate results, we 
err. Their influence did not perish in a day. Every 
now and then its hidden presence and strength were 
shown by the bubbling upon the waters, all along the 
lapse of years while the Stuarts were passing away, 
and the childless Prince of Orange, and the parri- 
cide Anne, and the first and second Georges. The 
generation taught, for so short a time only, by the 
youthful patriot to resent and to resist oppression, 
transmitted their temper with their blood. Not that 
Virginia had not before been jealous of arbitrary rule. 
She had long been, and it has been our pleasure to 
record it. But not until 1676 had she risen up. The 
babe first balancing upon its feet may fall, and its 
mishap may make it timid ; but it never forgets its 
discovered power : it yearns for its exercise, until it 
can run alone. 

An intelligent review of the early history of Vir- 
ginia cannot be made without enthusiastic admira- 
tion. It may be questioned whether that meed of 
honor has yet been rendered to her which is her due. 
The profligacy and worthlessness of her pioneer set- 
tlers, with the exception of a few rare and devoted 
men, — Smith, and Hunt, and Gosnold, and Percy, — 
are seldom equalled, never surpassed. But their de- 
pravity was their bane. They were but the menial 
scouts, not the fathers, of the new commonwealth ; 
and when they had done their drudgery, they died. 
Hardier and better men entered into 1 heir labors, — 



472 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 

men who loved the broad wilderness and virgin Na- 
ture, not for licentiousness' sake, but for that sense of 
manhood and healthful freedom which they give ; 
who breathed an untainted air with delight, yet 
deferred to civil rule as salutary. The alphabet of 
self-government was, indeed, sent to Virginia by her 
fosterers in England, who might not use it there 
themselves. The New World had given her a new 
instinct ; and she learned so rapidly to read and write, 
that she outstripped her patrons, and first framed a 
Bill of Rights. That which the British Parliament 
extorted from Charles the First, which historians have 
venerated and lauded as the original charter of con- 
stitutional liberty, was but the successor and the tran- 
script of Virginia's in 1624. Nor was this the only 
memorable instance in which the aged mother was 
fain to learn wisdom from the despised and youthful 
daughter. In 1688, when England was at her wit's 
end to reconcile her fundamental doctrine of heredi- 
tary succession with her craving for a new dynasty ; 
when she had scared James the Second to France ; 
w T hen she was at the crisis of her glorious Revolu- 
tion, — glorious in its results, though infamous in its 
prosecution, — she piously compromised with her con- 
science, her will, and her constitution, and cunningly 
cut the knot which she could not untie, by declaring 
that her legitimate monarch was not, while he was 
yet alive and claimed allegiance, — that her realm 
was kingless, — that flight ivas abdication. Whether 
absurd or rational, whether a truth or a lie, was not 
essential. It was gravely adopted by the Conven- 
tion of 1688-9 ; for it suited their purpose, it resolved 
their perplexity. Were they sages above all others ? 



REVENGE. 473 

Although it was a figment, a trick upon common 
sense, it was an admirable expedient for a worthy 
end. But they did not originate it. Virginia did. 
Twelve years before, she had done it. When Berke- 
ley had been scared to Accomac, she had declared 
u that flight was abdication." England availed her- 
self of so shrewd a precedent, — for James in France 
was like Berkeley in Accomac, — and demurely 
avowed a notion for which she had chastised her 
daughter. Would she, of herself, have divined so 
odd a doctrine ? " Honor to whom honor." 

But Virginia was not only the first to propound to 
England a Petition of Right, and the first to show 
her how she might make a Revolution. She was the 
first to tell her bluntly, that tyranny would not do for 
Anglo-Saxons in America ; the first to draw the 
sword of Liberty, and the first to furnish martyrs. 
The elder sister of the Colonies, she had sustained 
the dignity of her birthright. It was meet, therefore, 
that by her it should first be "proposed" that the 
Congress of the Colonies should declare their inde- 
pendence. It was meet that by a son of her's that 
Declaration should be drawn ; that from her should 
arise the Father of the Country, the first chief magis- 
trate of the new republic. And it was also meet, 
that on her soil, where revolution was first attempted, 
the grand drama of triumphant Revolution should be 
closed ; that where the first blow had been struck for 
Freedom, there, a century after, should be struck the 
last; that, on the very spot where Drummond was 
martyred on the gallows, Cornwallis should surrender 
to Washington. So God orders. 

THE END, 



►*D 



